When at War
by Mel439
Summary: Through a series of unfortunate events, Hermione is forced into the company of Draco Malfoy. Depending on one another will be difficult when opposing objectives are in play. Set in a world where the first Horcrux has not yet been destroyed and the trio are still in hiding from the death eaters after the escape from Gringotts. Slow burn Dramione.
1. Chapter 1

Her eyes snapped open as the wind deafened her. It took a moment for her discombobulated mind to focus as paralyzing fear struck her. Would she hit the rocks or the water? In what seemed like the bravest thing she had ever done, she twisted her head to look. She barely noticed Draco Malfoy falling not far from her as the dark water quickly approached. How did she let herself get so distracted? Could she even survive hitting the lake from that height? If a million thoughts could rush into someone's mind at once, it would be in the moments fuelled with adrenaline, right before one's anticipated death. She could no longer hear Ron's angry war cries or Harry's periodic shouts of her name. In a surge of panic, she quite literally saw her life flash before her eyes.

* * *

"It's my turn to wear it Harry" she stated as she outstretched her hand to him.

"It's fine. I can wear it a little while longer" he solemnly answered.

"We should stick to the schedule. That way no one needs to endure its effects for a prolonged period of time."

"I know that Hermione. I said I'm fine."

She looked to Ron across the campfire, who also looked uncomfortable with Harry's behavior.

"She's right mate, no need to suffer longer than you have too."

"You two aren't' listening. It's me he wants, I can feel him. When I have it on I can sense when he is getting closer".

Hermione watched as Harry rubbed the Horcrux between his fingers, his gaze fixed to the small fire they had lit.

"Is he near now?" Ron carefully asked.

Harry paused for a moment. "No."

"Then let me have I-"

"I said no Hermione!" He stated as he ripped his gaze away from the flames to her face.

Not a heartbeat later, rustling of vegetation and hurried footsteps could be heard from the nearby woods. All three immediately stood up, wands retrieved and slightly raised at the ready.

"Hermione, you did ward us here ya?" Ron frantically whispered.

"I did." She quietly responded.

"Be ready for anything" said Harry, attenuating the fire wordlessly. Running from the death eaters these past couples of months had them repeating certain spells so many times words were no longer needed to perform the magic.

With only the first rays of sunlight peaking above the horizon, it was difficult to adjust to the darkness of the forest without the campfire's glow. Worse, listening to the footsteps in the woods made the forest seem eerily quiet.

A second pair of footsteps could be heard. Followed by a third from a different direction. Harry nodded to Hermione, who immediately began the emergency pack up routine while Harry and Ron moved into position to cover her back. Suddenly, a flurry of footsteps, indistinguishable in numbers, were walking in every direction around them. Ron fidgeted with his wand nervously, visibly shaking and pointing it at any new sounds nearing him while Harry stood steady, firm and patient. Neither seeing movement, only hearing it. Hermione was the last to notice as the rustling around them stopped, too engrossed with the last of the packing as she fastened her beaded handbag to her belt.

For a moment nothing moved. The trio stood back to back in a triangular formation, a few feet from the other.

Then, all at once and from all around them, blinding red lights shot out from behind the trees and foliage, visibly disintegrating Hermione's barrier and protection spells. As soon as it shimmered away, snatchers and death eaters appeared and attacked.

They were surrounded.

Red flashes, green lightning, and dark purple spells were being thrown while the three friends deflected them and attempted retaliation.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry and Ron screamed in unison.

Four bodies were sent flying away from them, and Hermione quickly took the opportunity to escape the enclosure of Voldemort's followers, all the while parrying oncoming attacks. Harry and Ron followed suit, and when they had created enough distance between them and the followers, the three turned to run.

"Harry you said he wasn't here!" Ron yelled as they began to pick up speed.

"He isn't!" Harry yelled back while deflecting a stun.

"Hermione how did they find us?!" Ron shrieked as he jumped over a log.

"I don't know!" She breathlessly replied.

A jet of dark red light zipped past her temple, and the heat of it singed the top of her ear, making her flinch and lose her footing. The unintended squeak that escaped her throat caught Ron's attention, and he stopped dead in his tracks to run back to her.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled.

He stopped to give them some cover as the death eaters began catching up.

One of the snatchers threw up a pink signal high through the tree line, momentarily illuminating the entire area of the forest. Harry was quickly able to count eight of them as Ron and Hermione sprinted up to him.

A couple of swooshing sounds were heard, and newly apparated death eaters joined the hunt.

"Can't run forever Potter!" One of them loudly stated while they continued their advance.

Harry ducked behind a large oak tree as a rainbow of colors flurried by him. Ron and Hermione had also taken shelter and were occasionally throwing out counter attacks.

"That's Draco Malfoy," Harry told the other two over the sounds of fired shots.

"How can you tell?" asked Hermione as Ron simultaneously said, "So?"

"I'm sure of it. I think Dobby wants to say hi." And with that raging thought in mind, Harry stepped out of his hiding spot and started taking on the brunt of the attacks one by one.

"Oh come on!" Yelled a frustrated Ron.

Then he too started on the offensive.

Hermione took a moment to think about the recently deceased house elf and the recent events at Malfoy manner. Her forearm flared in pain just thinking about it. But without Dobby, chances are they wouldn't even be here, and she would have long been dead at the hands of Bellatrix. If Draco was here, it must be in a vain attempt to recapture them. Wouldn't want you-know-who to realize his prized objective had escaped.

The ground a few feet from the tree she was hiding behind spontaneously exploded, splattering her entire body with dirt. The spell left the ground steaming.

Taking a couple of rapid deep breaths, she came out of her hiding spot and joined the boys on the battlefield.

Some of the death eaters wore masks while others didn't bother. Certain faces were recognizable while others remained typical nameless henchmen. Some wore more expensive robes, others were dressed rather commonly. The one she was fighting with now wore plain brown pants for heaven's sake. It still amazed her that people from all walks of life chose to side with Voldemort's vision of pure blood supremacy. She briefly wondered if they were promised a return for their undying obedience and servitude.

"A mudblood covered in mud? How incredibly appropriate."

Hermione turned in time to block Lucius Malfoy's green jet. Her eyes widened in fear as he vanished his mask. His long blond hair covered his shoulder perfectly as if no amount of wind had ever touched his face. His eyes, on the other hand, were exhausted, sunken in and almost dull looking.

"Do you ever get tired of running Miss Granger? It seems awfully draining."

Another jet of color hurled her way, and she twisted her body to divert it, before returning her attention to the older Malfoy.

"Oh, not to worry dear, your blood will soon run in the muk." He added, staring at the excessive blood loss to the side of her face where her ear had earlier been grazed. "Like the rest of your kind."

"Hermione!" she heard Harry call out to her somewhere in the nearby distance. Her words breathlessly escaped her as she responded,

"Perhaps, Mr. Malfoy. Whether or not you live to see its possibility will depend on whether or not _he_ figures out you were incapable of preventing us from escaping the mansion".

It was more of an educated guess really. But as his face steeled over in anger, she concluded it was an accurate estimation.

He sneered at her as his arm shot out in front of him, throwing her a curved spell that she barely deflected. The force of it thrust her to the side, and she had to hop a bit to regain her footing. When she lifted her head, she barely had time to throw her arm up in defense against his next attack.

Her arm stayed risen as she started retreating backward from his onslaught of barrages. It was as if the end of his wand was shooting out fireworks in rapid succession, and her bicep was quickly becoming exhausted from the repetitive deflection movements. Mr. Malfoy's skill level outmatched her own as he graciously continued to step forward and elegantly maintained an arrhythmic pattern of curses at her.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" cried Ron as he ran past her, beelining the aristocrat.

"Ron wait!" She tried to cover him, but a passing red curse momentarily blinded her and made her recoil from it.

She looked over to the source and stunned the woman who shot it at her.

As her new adversary slumped to the ground, she could see Harry solely battling Draco Malfoy and about six unmoving bodies on the ground near them. She knew Harry had never used a killing curse, but his skills at dulling were frightfully exceptional.

Ron's roars of anger caught her attention, and she whirled around and intercepted a hex aimed at Ron's legs. He wasn't holding up against Lucius either and together they only managed to stop him from physically advancing.

They needed Harry and they needed him now.

The rising sun revealed they were atop a steep rock face and the dawn glimmered upon an immense lake down below. She didn't know the area; it was Ron who had chosen this apparition site, claiming his father had once shown him pictures of a research trip.

Lucius halted his attacks as his eyes darted to his son.

"Finish them" he then told a couple bystanding snatchers, who were previously admiring the display of prowess he demonstrated. Despite the failed retention of the golden trio, Malfoy senior still held mass amounts of respect within the rankings. He had, after all, climbed the ranks to Voldemort's inner circle through wealth, knowledge, connections and magical skills that almost matched those of Bellatrix.

He waved an invisible wall and walked past the two lesser skilled companions; his destination had Harry Potter in his sight, clearly gaining an edge over his let down of an offspring.

"He's going after Harry!" hollered Hermione.

"I'm on it!"

But Ron didn't get a chance at running after Mr. Malfoy as the remaining assailants focused their attention on him.

"I'm going!" she decided.

Ron was too caught up in the action to answer. She didn't wait for one as she sprinted out of the forest closer to the edge of the cliff, where Harry had Draco on the ground, pitifully raging defensive spells. As her feet propelled her forward, she watched as Mr. Malfoy covertly lifted his wand while approaching Harry from behind. An idea came to her as Lucius's cape bellowed silently in his stride, casting a shadow with the rising sun on the horizon.

"Incendio!" she screamed, and the cloth caught fire. This seemed to catch both Harry and the younger Malfoy's attention as Lucius ripped off his cloak and stomped on it in an attempt to put out the flame. Harry took the distraction and expelled Malfoy's wand from him. To Draco's utter despair, it soared over the cliff to its bottom.

"Why you filthy, disgusting little-" started Lucius to Hermione.

"This is it Malfoy." Interrupted Harry, his wand still pointed at Draco. "You've failed. Again."

Lucius remained calm and paused for a moment. "Have I now?" he replied, raising an eyebrow.

Somebody grabbed Hermione from behind as a bruised, cut up and bound Ron was thrown to the ground beside her.

Harry's boyish features contorted darkly.

"Let them go."

"I think not," Lucius stated as he inhaled the first whiffs of smoke and actually took the time to look over the lake and the skyline. "You are in no position to bargain. "

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "I have your son."

"And I hold in my possession the fate of your two _best_ friends, not to mention the fact that you are now outnumbered."

It was true, a couple of stun's had worn off and apart from Lucius and Draco, one goon was holding Hermione at wand-point, two stood over Ron, and another slowly joined them from the treeline.

The patch of dry grass Lucius's cloak landed on had caught fire and was rapidly spreading, jumping from one area to the next with the help of the wind. Harry then noticed that while the death eater holding Hermione had her hostage, the dimwit had forgotten to take away her wand, and she was holding it tightly, hiding it in her sleeve. Draco was without a wand so he was less of a problem. But he didn't think Hermione could handle the other four goons while he took on Lucius. He glanced down at Ron who seemed to be floating in and out of consciousness.

He was running low on ideas.

Hermione, on the other hand, had been concentrating on silently cutting Ron's ropes with a spell while attempting to hide her wand, at times accidentally cutting him in the process.

"Should we call upon the dark Lord sire?" The henchman to Ron's left asked.

"Don't be hasty." Lucius turned to answer the goon. "If there's one thing I've learned about these three is to not celebrate prematurely." That's when he noticed Hermione's concentrated look to Ron. "Stop her!" he stated as he began to move towards her.

By chance, she finished cutting the last of Ron's ropes. "Innervate!" she cried, and her blast to his chest brutally woke him up.

He would need serious medical attention later from forcefully being waked from unconsciousness, but it was the only foreseeable opportunity they could have of escape.

Ron jumped into action, tackling the closest snatcher to the ground, frantically beating him. He had every intention of stealing the man's wand, since he had no idea what they had done with his after they had caught him.

Harry promptly reacted and engaged Lucius to divert his attention.

That left Hermione with three. She hastily pointed her wand behind her to her captor and incanted "Repellio!" and an invisible force threw him a couple of feet from her. Luckily, he fell into the growing fire and frightfully attempted to attenuate it as it latched onto his robes.

Draco watched dumbfoundedly as his father's usually composed face was struck with disbelief and fear. Not fear of Potter, he was sure, but fear of the golden trio's escape.

Again.

His eyes shifted to Ron, who was still wrestling his comrade for a wand and then to Granger, who was holding her own against two grown men, trained in the dark arts.

Without a wand, he was pretty useless. Fucking Potter.

Draco got up from his position on the ground and stalked over to Weasley, grabbing him by the clothes on his shoulders and yanking him off the bloke. Spells were being thrown without care or precision from the henchmen fighting Granger, so he had to dodge a few.

"Hey! Watch it!"

His outburst ended up distracting them, and Granger managed a perfect expelliarmus charm that disarmed the man closest to Ron, and his wand flew to the ground between the two. The guy Weasley had previously been pummelling was incoherently groaning on the ground next to him.

At least he still had his wand. _A wand_.

"Give me that." He bent down to retrieve it when a burst of yellow light shot his wrist. He yelped in pain as he held his newly burnt wrist close to him. He looked up to see Weasley's dark gaze and newly acquired wand pointed right at him, its previous owner passed out on the ground beneath him. Panic overtook him before he noticed Granger backing up towards him, her exhaustion catching up with her.

He lunged at her and grabbed her from behind, locking her wand arm to her chest diagonally and using her as a shield against Weasley.

Ron quickly stunned the last man before redirecting his wand to Draco.

"Go ahead weasel, shoot."

Ron paused, worry spreading across his face. "Step away from the cliff's edge Malfoy."

Draco froze at his words and turned his head to check. Sure enough, about three steps back would have him tumbling to his death. No matter, he knew Weasley wasn't going to shoot. All he had to do is wait for his father to overpower Potter, and a quick glance in his direction told him he wouldn't need to wait very long.

"Don't be daft Malfoy," Granger annoyingly expressed.

How can she seriously be annoyed right now? He was in control. "Shut up mudblood." And to press his point, he squeezed her tighter, causing a pained noise to escape her. As his cheek accidentally brushed her ear, she flinched away from him in pain (as much as she could).

He also recoiled when he felt wetness touch his face. He took a moment to actually look at her and saw all the blood oozing from a missing top of her ear, completely soaking a part of her hair, her neck, and her shoulder.

That's _disgusting._

His attention was pulled from her when the ground shook.

The man whom Hermione repelled into the fire was heading towards them, his fury as apparent as his second-degree burns that destroyed parts of his legs, arms, and face. "Bombarda Maxima!" he shrieked at Ron.

Ron deflected the blow, but it landed nearby a thick tree, blasting the earth and shattering the tree trunk.

Draco steadied himself as the ground shook again and watched as the rest of the tree seemingly slowly fell; it's heavy top half going over the edge of the cliff and the rest following it to the bottom where a loud crash was heard. Even Potter and his father paused.

"Bombarda Maxima!"

"Stop it!" yelled Ron as he was forced to deflect another bomb. The earth shook again.

"Let me go Malfoy" panic now apparent in Granger's voice.

"I don't think so, Granger."

"Bombarda Maxima!" This time loud grunting could be heard as the ground beneath them started to give and splashes from falling rocks made Draco hyper-aware of how close to the edge he really was.

"Enough!" yelled Lucius.

Hermione had to get away from the edge. Her eyes scanned everything they could in sight. They landed on Malfoys burnt wrist.

"Bombarda MAXIMA!"

She bit down on it. Hard. Malfoy howled in pain and instinctively released her. She took two steps before the ground beneath her gave away.

"HERMIONE!" Harry and Ron's voices were swallowed by the noise of the crumbling cliff.

* * *

Her eyes snapped open as the wind deafened her. It took a moment for her discombobulated mind to focus as paralyzing fear struck her. Would she hit the rocks or the water? In what seemed like the bravest thing she had ever done, she twisted her head to look. She barely noticed Draco Malfoy falling not far from her as the dark water quickly approached. How did she let herself get so distracted? Could she even survive hitting the lake from that height? If a million thoughts could rush into someone's mind at once, it would be in the moments fuelled with adrenaline, right before one's anticipated death.

She could no longer hear Ron's angry war cries or Harry's periodic shouts of her name. In a surge of panic, she quite literally saw her life flash before her eyes, up until that very moment. As the present caught up with her she estimated she had about two seconds before she hit the water. With an idea that bordered the line of unrealistic expectations, she pointed her wand at the water that she still miraculously held onto and screamed,

"COXINUS!" and screwed her eyes shut.

End of chapter one.


	2. Chapter 2

She lost her breath as she hit the lake and was instantly cooled.

Her legs scissored as she started for the surface. Her lungs began to burn and the need for air overtook her senses.

Debris was still falling into the water, making her path to the surface take that much longer as she dodged oncoming rocks and heavy branches.

With a final kick, she emerged audibly, inhaling and sputtering as the waves pushed their way into her open mouth and into her lungs.

After catching her breath, Hermione looked up to where she had fallen. A couple of trees had caught fire and parts of the precipice were still hurtling towards the water. She started swimming away from it.

"Where do you think you're going, Granger?"

She twisted her head and found Malfoy treading water a mere ten meters closer to the rock face.

How she wished he'd have hit it.

She ignored him as she swerved around and continued on her path to the safest shoreline.

She thought about Harry and Ron and prayed for their safety.

With all the ruckus, she didn't hear Draco catch up to her, and she screamed when he grabbed her thigh.

She took a deep breath and ducked underwater. She twisted her body so she was facing him and landed a swift kick to his abdomen. She kicked him a second time with her newly freed leg and gained a few feet of distance.

"Get away from me!" She shrieked when she resurfaced and aggressively splashed water his way.

It occurred to her that he was wandless so she patted her pockets only to realize she must have lost it when she hit the water.

Her wand was made of vine wood.

Vine wood floats!

She desperately started looking for her wand in the morning light. But the water was littered with twigs from the tree that had fallen. It was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack.

Draco was royally pissed.

He lost his wand; nearly died falling off a cliff and that bitch of a witch just kicked him with almost enough force to make him puke. He gripped his aching stomach with one hand and took off after her.

Screw his father's plan. She was gonna drown.

Granger was turning and twisting, clearly looking for something.

He used her distraction to his convenience as he swam up to her again, this time prepared for a fight.

He dodged her kick by grabbing it with both hands, followed by a quick pull that made her head bob under the water.

He used the opportunity to let go of her leg and grabbed her arm. As she came back up for air, he reared his arm back, closed his fist and gave her a quick blow to the face.

She swallowed water as his fist connected with her teeth. The metallic taste of blood that poured into her mouth was quickly replaced by lake water as he proceeded to put his entire weight upon her, submerging her in the process.

Her hand brushed a twig, and in a moment of blind panic, she clasped it and plunged it between his ribcage. She heard his howl of pain from under the water. When she surfaced, she noted he was crying. Frantic breaths were escaping him.

Good. Serves him right.

The taste of blood refilled her mouth and she realized that if he were to regain his strength; she might not be so lucky a second time. So she took a moment to calm herself and closed her eyes, brows creased in concentration. She ignored Draco's moans and focused on her wand. She felt her magic seep from her and it drew her to the right. She opened her eyes and followed it.

It was a marvel his lung hadn't collapsed.

She must not have jabbed him deep enough to pierce it.

Nevertheless, he wasn't so stupid as to pull it out in the water. With every breath the pain flared and staying afloat was becoming more difficult.

God, he hated her, with every fibre of his being. She must have found what she was looking for because she now started a front crawl to the shore. Movement on the higher ground caught his eye and he wheezed a laugh.

She wasn't going to get very far.

Hermione was renewed with hope. She was reunited with her wand, and she could now get to land and search for the boys. She would soon reach the shallow water and run to safety.

As her dominant hand rose from the water in the classic front crawl pattern, it was hit with a curse. The water swallowed her scream as her arm limped, clearly broken. A fusillade of more dark spells was thrown at her from above and she could do nothing but retreat.

The glimmer of hope was ripped from her as she side stroked to escape.

But she had nowhere to go.

The lake was huge and she wasn't going to make it across. She couldn't apparate; she wasn't grounded to something to take off from.

It was her turn to cry as she helplessly swam away from shore, water being blasted all around her.

She expected to be hit at any given moment.

As she swam back in the general direction of Malfoy she realized that if she made it, she could take a page from his book and use him as a human shield.

The idea gave her renewed her strength, and she picked up the pace to reach him. He was barely treading water when she did, only his face breaching the surface. With her left arm, she made a show of pointing her wand at him, using only her legs to keep her afloat.

The firing ceased.

"Piss off." He practically croaked.

She jabbed her wand under his jaw as a response.

"Won't matter." He wheezed.

"I think it does."

"Not for long."

Unbelievably, spells were then fired from the cliff like arrows.

They soared high in the air before they crashed into the lake, each one coming ever closer.

Hermione noticed curses didn't stop when they reached the water but seemed to be going straight _through_ the water.

She assumed the increase in spells meant their back up had arrived.

Draco took her confusion as an opening and made a grab for her wand.

"Stupefy!" Was her unthinking response and he was knocked out cold.

She looked up again and watched in horror as the sky lit up in red; over fifty curses began raining down her way.

She couldn't outswim them.

Something brushed her leg and she jerked her head down. Malfoy's sinking body gave her a theoretical solution.

She held her breath and dived in after him; her good arm outstretched to reach him. As the water began to glow red from above, she grabbed his shoulder, wrapped her legs around him and practically screamed in her mind a place she knew she would be safe.

As the spells pierced the water, they apparated.

End of chapter two.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a busy morning for Mrs. Weasley.

Arthur had received news that Ronald's involvement at the Malfoy Manor was known amongst the ranks of the death eaters. Since Ron was supposedly at home sick for the past couple of months, the suspicions of the family being "blood traitors" with ties to the Order were reinforced.

With the death eaters aware, and well infiltrated within the ministry of magic, the Weasley's were currently packing up and going into hiding.

The Burrow was no longer safe.

Dishes were packing themselves into open boxes, cutleries were lining up to be washed, and all manners of kitchen cloths were folding in on themselves, creating neat piles.

Molly sadly glanced around her kitchen.

In a couple of hours, she would be leaving her home, where she had raised way too many boys and a most loving daughter. She blinked when she heard a loud splash on the deck and jumped after a loud thud followed.

"Arthur!?"

When a female cry pierced the air, she grabbed her wand off the counter and ran outside.

In the middle of her soaked deck was Hermione Granger, who was lying atop another.

"Hermione?"

With a great deal of pain and exhaustion, Hermione released her vice-grip of Malfoy and rolled onto her back.

Mrs. Weasley took a moment of consideration before addressing the secret password all members of the Order knew as to be able to identify imposters. Better to be safe then to assume and be sorry.

"What is Honeydukes special today?"

"Bertie Botts every flavor...every flavor…" but she wasn't able to finish her sentence and passed out.

"She didn't say it all the way," Came Mr. Weasley from behind Molly.

"She was clearly going to. That's good enough for me!" She stated starting to walk towards Hermione.

"Is that who I think it is?" Said Arthur as he noticed the other limp body.

Molly stopped in her tracks.

"Is he dead?" He pushed.

"I don't know."

Arthur pointed his wand at Draco's chest.

"One way find out. Innervate!"

A fountain of water dislodged itself from inside Draco's chest and he immediately rolled onto his unwounded side to puke it out.

"Incarcerous!"

Thick rope rapidly wrapped around Draco and a cry of pain escaped him as the ropes tightened. The friction and pressure on the stick between his ribs only made the injury worse.

"Still alive then," said Mr. Weasley "We should call Remus."

Watching the young Malfoy struggle against his binds made both Weasleys uncomfortable.

"That would be best," Molly finally responded and proceeded to go inside to call the previous defense against the dark arts professor.

Arthur, wand still pointed at Draco observed the scene in front of him.

It was quite unbelievable really.

They hadn't heard from Ron, Harry or Hermione in months. To have her suddenly appear on his doorstep with Draco Malfoy was most unusual.

The young man was avidly glaring at him and noticeably using shallow, measured breaths.

He flicked his gaze to Hermione, still unconscious.

Her lip was busted and he noticed several random bruises.

A dejected appearance overtook him as his gaze swept across her arm, it didn't quite look right.

He kept silent, wand still hovering as the boy defiantly looked up at him.

"Who do we have here?"

"Ah, Remus, I assume Molly's already filled you in."

"She has." He said as he overlooked the pair, hands finding his pockets.

"Let's bring them in," he added. "No point in keeping them out here."

Remus assisted Malfoy to his feet and with the okay from Lupin, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley levitated Hermione inside to one of the upstairs bedrooms.

Malfoy was nudged onto a second-hand couch that sported several holes brought on by years of use.

He audaciously gave his old professor a dirty look.

"It's been quite a long time since we've last spoken Draco"-

"It's Malfoy."

"Yes, well would you care to explain your presence alongside Miss Granger?"

Draco tightened his jaw and kept it shut.

He had no business with this dog.

Besides, werewolves gave him the creeps.

"What does our guest have to say?" Asked Arthur as he strode back into the room.

"Nothing yet. I don't think he will be a willing participant today. How is Hermione?"

"She'll be alright. A broken arm and a split lip. I think she's mostly exhausted. Nothing Molly hasn't dealt with before."

Their interest fell back to Draco, his grey eyes shone steadily at them, but his pain betrayed him as his chest rose and fell in heaves.

Remus almost felt sorry for him.

"I tell you what Draco - "

"Malfoy."

"If you tell us what happened, we'll stabilize your wound for you."

Draco's attention shifted between the two as he considered it.

"Granger stabbed me with a stick."

"That's not what I meant."

"Granger kicked me in the stomach, then stabbed me with a stick."

"Draco."

"What do you want from me?"

"Why are you here with Hermione?"

"Because weasel can't deflect worth shit."

Remus closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

"Who is weasel?" Asked Mr. Weasley as he took a step in his direction.

Draco snickered.

"Are Harry and Ronald safe?" Asked Lupin, trying to redirect the conversation.

"Like I would tell you."

Something in Mr. Weasley cracked, he walked to sit on the table in front of Draco and put his hands on its surface.

"Mr. Malfoy, I haven't seen my son in months. If you could give us any indication on - "

"No doubt my father has them by now; packaged up and ready to be delivered to the dark lord."

The color of Mr. Weasley's face washed away as professor Lupin grabbed his arm and guided him out of the room.

"Why don't you go check on Molly…She might need some help with Hermione."

Mr. Weasley paused to compose himself before nodding his head in defeat.

"I'll stay with our pleasant guest" Remus added, trying to lighten the mood.

Mr. Weasley hesitated.

"Go on Arthur; Draco won't say much to us at the moment. If he does, it'll only be taunts and hotheaded reactions. He was the same in school. I can handle him."

Mr. Weasley gave him another nod and disappeared up the stairs.

Remus sighed as he watched him go and turned his head back to the living room. It was going to be a rather long day.

End of chapter 3.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: Realised I haven't wrote a disclaimer: All Harry Potter world's/characters belong to J.K Rowling. This story however is inherently mine.

Shout out to my followers and reviewers! Thank you so much! You keep me going.

* * *

When Hermione awoke, the sun was already peaked. Her broken arm was in a sling but other than that she felt replenished. Someone had dressed her in loose men's pajamas and draped her original clothes at the end of the bed.

She threw the covers and got off the bed to walk over to the mirror behind the open closet door.

She would have never guessed she had been in battle earlier that morning. Her lip was healed, and her skin adorned a fresh glow, without the cuts and bruises she knew she had acquired. She squinted as she took a closer look at the top of her left ear. It looked as if someone had cleanly cut it off with a pair of scissors.

New battle scar she supposed. It was hardly noticeable anyway.

She turned to walk back to the bed and picked up the clothes she had worn earlier that day. She hadn't realized how torn they were.

"Well, these are now garbage." She said, letting them fall back on the bed, not bothering to try to mend them.

Looking around the room she saw it was quite empty. She recognized the space, so she knew she was still at the Weasley's. Only the bed, the mirror and an old flower pot on the window sill remained. Unusual.

She turned back to the mirror to give herself another look. Her curves had filled out a little over the years, but she still couldn't tame the mess she called her hair.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts as Mrs. Weasley entered the room. She ran to Hermione with open arms.

"Oh! Hermione! We were so worried. What on earth happened to you?"

Hermione explained the events of the morning. It crushed her to tell Mrs. Weasley that she had no idea if her son and Harry were safe.

"Well, at least you're safe now," Offering Hermione a small smile.

Wait a minute.

"What happened to Malfoy?" asked Hermione.

"He's still here. Oh not to worry, Remus has him tied up good." She added when she saw Hermione's horrified expression.

"Professor Lupin is here?"

"Yes, we called him when we first noticed the young Malfoy boy. We weren't' quite sure how the Order would want to handle the situation".

Hermione nodded. Malfoy was no longer her concern. If they took him back to headquarters the Order may be able to extract valuable information from him.

"Thank you for tending to me Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh my goodness no need to thank me. I couldn't' salvage the top of your ear but another couple of days and those bones will be completely mended." She said pointing to her arm.

"That's amazing."

"All in a day's work for a mother dear," Molly's gaze shifted to her other arm. "I do want to apologize Hermione. I don't know who wrote that awful word on your forearm, but I wasn't able to heal it. I'm afraid you might need someone more specialized in the removal of curses to get it off…"

"I appreciate the effort, Mrs. Weasley," she said as she pulled back the heavy pajama sleeve to take another look at the word _mudblood_ carved there.

"Compliments of Bellatrix Lestrange."

Molly stood in shock for a moment.

"I hope I never have to meet such a terrible person."

Hermione hoped she was right.

The wound had started scarring over, and she didn't know how to get rid of it. She had already tried suggestions from the various first aid and remedies against dark curses books she carried in her bag. With every potion and incantation she tried, the word only sizzled and grew dark.

"Now enough of that, I put your bag and wand with your clothes at the end of the bed there."

"Yes, I saw that, thank you. Would you happen to have any other clothes I could have? I fear those ones might be unsalvageable and I only packed four outfits."

"In fact, I think I do," Molly exited the room and returned a moment later with a school uniform.

"You left this last time you visited."

"It's perfect." She replied. It wasn't. The skirt alone was totally impractical. Chances are she would never wear it.

"Well, Remus has been waiting downstairs for you. I expect he'd like to see you now that you're awake."

"Yes, of course, I'll be right down."

With a last hug, Mrs. Weasley headed down the stairs.

Hermione walked to her bag and pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a dark flower pattern top to change in. As per habit, she tied her bag to her belt and pocketed her wand before heading downstairs.

Hushed voices came up from the ground floor.

Most likely Mrs. Weasley relaying her story to the others. When she heard Harry and Ron's name, she wondered where they could be. If they were safe.

Hermione took her time; gliding down every step. She observed the dark squares that adorned the spots where picture frames once hung. The Weasley's was her home away from home, and now it would apparently be lost to her too.

The muffled voices came to a halt as she stepped off the last stair. She first noticed professor Lupin leaning against the kitchen table.

"Miss Granger! So good to see you again. I see Mrs. Weasley has done a fantastic job fixing you up."

"She has." Hermione replied and offered a small smile.

Draco screamed against his gag in frustration from the living room.

"Ah yes, I'd had almost forgotten about our guest." Stated Remus.

Hermione took a couple of steps towards the living room and peeked around its corner.

Malfoy was bound by a surplus of ropes and had what seemed to be a large handkerchief muffling him. He sort of resembled an overgrown worm lying down across the couch.

She turned back to the adults in the kitchen.

"Right. It's about time we head out then," said Arthur as he looked up from his watch.

"Where will you be going?" She asked the Weasley's.

As Arthur opened his mouth to answer, a knock came from the front door.

Remus turned to Mr. Weasley.

"Were you expecting somebody Arthur?"

"No."

"Wands out at the ready then."

Hermione reached into her back pocket and pulled out her wand, walking over to stand behind professor Lupin.

"Not a sound." Whispered Remus.

Malfoy's hollering became louder, trying to be noticed by whoever was at the door.

Hermione held her breath and quickly made her way back to the living room, ignoring professor Lupin's panicked glance.

Malfoy had squirmed off the couch and was desperately trying to be noticed from his position on the floor.

"Silencio" she breathed.

Malfoy's cries were instantly silenced.

The front door unlocked.

The door was pushed open, and three men wearing ministry attire entered the house.

"Moving Arthur?" said the first of them as he looked around. He had a crooked wand that he manipulated to point straight to Mr. Weasley as he walked around the kitchen, seemingly unfazed that the three others had their wands raised.

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Odd," He stopped across the table from them. "I don't recall you informing the ministry of your decision."

One of the other officials placed himself in front of the door while the other idly paced the floor.

"Last minute decision I'm afraid." Replied Mr. Weasley.

"It's an action that will be taken into account upon your hearing." The man replied.

"What hearing?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

He leisurely rounded the table to approach her, taking off his gloves as he did.

"Mr. Arthur and Mrs. Molly Weasley, you are hereby under arrest for the aid and concealment of information regarding undesirable number one; Harry James Potter."

"I'm sure the Weasley family don't know what you're talking about mister official." Spoke professor Lupin.

"Don't lie to us!" the official snapped. "We have eyewitnesses tying one Ronald Billius Weasley to the recent escape of the previously detained Potter."

He turned to Hermione.

"There was also a girl present." He started walking towards her. "An unregistered mudblood named Granger." His eyes landed on her scar.

Hermione tightened her grip as one of her feet unintentionally stepped back.

"I've got someone here Davies"

All eyes turned to the third ministry official now holding the binds of an angry-looking Malfoy.

"Good God," said the man known as Davies. "That's Lucius's boy."

The other two officials now raised their wand as well.

"You can add a charge of kidnapping to your sentence, Weasley." He added as he snapped his head back to Arthur.

"Donovan, immediately send word to the Malfoy Manor to inform Lucius his son has been found," Davies stated as he jerked his hand and Malfoy was released from his bindings.

As the man at the door began to say expecto patronum, Remus expelled his wand before he could finish the incantation.

"What do you think you're doing? That's a ministry official you just disarmed." Cautioned Davies.

"You'll need to forgive me sir, but the Malfoy boy must stay with us."

"Watch yourself, lad. If it's a fight you want, we'll give it to you."

No one answered. Remus up kept the man's stare.

Still, he ended up breaking the silence.

"Well, no avoiding it then. Expelliarmus!"


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks again to my new reviews! You guys always make my day!

-Mel :D

* * *

All hell broke loose.

Draco watched as Davies blocked professor Lupin's spell and ducked as Granger sent a stupefying charm to the guy beside him. He threw himself behind the wall that separated the sad piece they called a kitchen to the shabby excuse of a living room.

He immediately regretted the action as he slid his arse to the floor, his injury instantly reminding him that he was in no shape to break out into a run.

He brought a shaking hand to the twig still poking out from his chest.

His silk blue shirt was now unrecognizably red and moist as it dripped down from the wound. Carefully letting go of it, he looked at his hand.

He grimaced and looked away.

He needed to get out of here.

The shattering of a nearby window seemed to emphasize his thought so he stabilized his wound again with his bloody hand and pushed himself back up.

He knew he wasn't strong enough to apparate by himself. It was a miracle he didn't get splinched when Granger tried it earlier that morning.

He let out a cry of frustration. But it fell deaf to his ears. Granger's silencing spell was apparently still in effect.

With a bitter huff, he started to move.

He had no clue where to go.

He also had to stop every three steps because breathing was now a chore and it was getting really annoying.

He made it to the back of a hallway and had to lean against the wall to give himself another respite. His eyes closed as a spout of lightheadedness surged.

When he opened them again, a backdoor came into view.

 _Finally!_

* * *

Hermione ran and ducked behind the living room couch as one of its cushions' exploded, sending feathers flying everywhere.

Professor Lupin seemed to be handling Davies alright on his own, having blasted him through the front door and chasing after him.

She stood up, sent another stun and plopped back down for cover.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seemed to be doing alright as well. The ministry official they were fighting was on the defensive; being the unfortunate bloke that had to deal with two against one.

That left the last one to her.

Thus she continued her game of pop goes the weasel with the man named Donovan.

Adrenaline surged through her when more feather's exploded, this time right near her head.

That one was _way_ too close.

She stayed crouched for a moment, quickly trying to formulate her next plan of action when a surprised shout came from the kitchen.

"Molly!"

 _Oh no_.

"Protego!" Shouted Hermione as she held her wand up and made a break for the kitchen.

Her temporary shield held up as Donovan emitted unrecognizable spells at her.

She stopped for a moment, dead in her tracks as she saw Mrs. Weasley on the floor, unresponsive.

Davies emerged from outside and now joined his colleague.

Roles were reversed as a distraught Mr. Weasley stood in front of his unconscious wife, deflecting spell after spell.

Professor Lupin was nowhere in sight.

"Stupify!" Cried Hermione as her vision blurred up with tears.

Her spell hit the unnamed official who hadn't seen her coming and he crashed against the kitchen sink, out cold.

"Stay out of this you meddlesome girl," growled Davies.

He jerked his wand above his head. "Fyrefiriendis!"

Hermione jumped back as a wall of flame erupted from Davies' wand. It cut off her sight to the kitchen; she couldn't see what was happening to the Weasley's.

The flames burned from the floor and rose until they licked the ceiling in front of her.

"Aguamentis!" She tried. The water flew out from her wand and crashed into the wall of fire, sizzling into steam.

But the fire continued to roar, unbothered.

"Aguamentis!" She tried again. Same result.

She swerved her head looking around for anything useful. The house was empty. Save for the couch. But that wouldn't do her any good.

No problem, she'd surprise them from behind.

Hermione took off running to the back door. It was already opened so she ran through it and hurried along the edge of the house back to the front porch.

The somewhere along her run house had become quiet.

She halted and pressed her back against the wall near the kitchen window.

A growl of anger filled the air.

"Tell no one of this," said Davies.

No one answered.

Hermione craned her head to look inside.

Davies was leaning against the sink, his back to her and was blocking her view of the rest of the kitchen.

Her sneakers crunched shattered glassed on the deck and she snapped her head back away from the window.

Wand semi-raised, she waited as her heart pumped in rapid beats.

Nothing happened.

No movement or talking.

She knew they were still in there.

She weighed the risk of being discovered and taking another look to see what happened to the Weasley's.

She decided it was worth it.

Carefully placing her foot back on the glass, she held her breath and slowly moved her head back to the broken window, wand at the ready.

To her surprise, Davies was gone and the kitchen was empty.

Hermione frowned and creased her brows in confusion. She hadn't heard sounds of apparition let alone footsteps. Where did they go?

The floorboards behind her creaked.

She threw her hand out faster than her head turned.

To her dismay, her wand was ripped from her hand.

* * *

He slammed the door open as he forced his legs forward. His breath was ragged and excruciating. He sluggishly descended the porch steps onto the dry grass.

Draco looked around. No other buildings in sight. No tree line. Just an excess of tall grass and marshland.

He spun around again.

Nothing. The Wealsey shack was truly in the middle of nowhere.

A woman's cry emitted from inside the house behind him. It made his head swim.

Or maybe it was the blood loss.

He walked to the tall grass and crouched there. Hopefully, the ministry officials would make quick work of them and he could then go home.

A bubble rose in his throat. He tried to push it down but it only grew bigger. He hacked for a moment and coughed it out.

Movement from the porch caught his eye and he watched as Hermione quickly crept around the house back to the front.

 _Brilliant._

He stumbled getting back up but found the momentum to sneak after her. Granger hadn't even noticed the rustle of the grass he emerged from.

He heard himself breathing rather loudly from his mouth as he approached the deck and snapped his jaw shut.

The first breath through his nose didn't satisfy his lungs.

God, she would pay for stabbing him. Tenfold.

He loosened his jaw just enough to let in small amounts of puffs to go unnoticed.

She was peeking inside the kitchen now.

Was she trying to get a cheap shot at a ministry official?

That wasn't very noble. How very Slytherin of her. He dismissed the idea the minute it entered his head.

When she whipped her head back around and slammed her back to the side of the house, he ducked. _Way_ to fast.

He shook his head as his vision swam before him.

He only had one shot at this.

When she turned to look back into the kitchen again, he lounged onto the deck, her wand the only thing in his sight.

* * *

He just ripped it out of her hand. As if she had been loosely holding it.

Hermione slowly raised her good arm in surrender as her own wand pointed to her nose.

"Malfoy give me back my wand." She whispered.

He opened his mouth to retort but no sound came out. Her silence charm was still in effect.

A little more confident, she tried again.

"If you return me my wand, I can lift the spell."

He sneered at her, revealing bloody teeth.

That'd be a no then.

Rustling from inside the house caught her attention. She looked back at him. He was leaning against the house, panting, wand still facing her.

He raised his eyebrows and jerked her wand to the house before pointing it back to her.

He was planning on handing her over.

Not happening.

Despite his confident demeanor, she wasn't feeling very threatened. He looked rather pathetic really.

Still, he had her wand.

With a little Gryffindor courage, she pushed past him hoping to make it to the tall grass behind the house. He hadn't yet cursed her, so she was banking on him not knowing any useful wordless magic to stop her.

She slowed down about halfway around the house.

If that was the case, why didn't she take back her wand from him? Even with her broken arm, she would clearly still be able to get it from him. She couldn't apparate without it anyway.

She did a one-eighty midstride.

Malfoy had just got off the last porch step, his injury noticeably taking its toll.

It was almost laughable. She mentally patted herself on the back for a job well done.

The determination in her eyes must have scared him because his raised her wand at her again and started to back up.

She reached him quickly.

She stretched for her wand with her good arm. He raised it over his head and out of her reach, his other hand still holding his wound.

She used it to her advantage and made a slow and obvious attempt to strike his chest. He instantly coiled in on himself, her wand hand descending in the process.

Hermione grabbed her wand and pulled.

Surprisingly, he held tight and when she didn't dislodge it he pulled back.

The change in momentum threw off her balance and they both tumbled to the ground.

Her wand was dropped.

She was close to it.

As she reached for it, Draco picked up a rock. He brought it up high and smashed it against the deck, over and over again.

He was trying to signal the ministry officials, she realized.

When Hermione had a firm grip on her wand, she closed her eyes and thought of the first forest her, Harry and Ron even hid in.

Hearing footsteps rush his way, Draco used the last of his strength to grab a fistful of the bottom of her jeans. Hopefully, she would trip when she tried to make a run for it.

He suddenly felt an uncomfortable pull at his navel and he immediately became nauseous.

As the world around him distorted and vanished, the last of his strength completely left him.

End of chapter 5.


	6. Chapter 6

The forest materialized before her. Hermione took in a deep breath as she looked around. Birds chirped and trees glowed a healthy green.

Just how she remembered it.

It made her long for the company of her boys. She almost smiled thinking about how Ron's constant comical complaining made Harry's gloomy nature seem a little less bleak. Funny how you miss the oddest things about the people you care about.

As Hermione took a step forward to set up her usual wards, a branch caught her foot.

She rolled her eyes up in annoyance.

The pain potion must be wearing off as pain resettled in her broken arm.

She closed her eyes in frustration.

As soon as she finished the wards, she would take an analgesic from her supplies, set up her tent and rest while she figured out a way to find Harry and Ron.

She nodded her head. Good plan.

Without bothering to look down she gave the branch a disheartened kick and marched forward. The branch dislodged and a whoosh of air escaped it.

 _A whoosh of…_

An expiration.

She whipped around, wand already in her hand as she looked down.

There lay Draco Malfoy; on his side, arm slightly outstretched from her kick and completely and utterly unconscious.

She should probably check. Just to be sure.

She bent down and picked up a small sized rock. Then she threw it at him.

He didn't react.

 _Great_.

Now she had to deal with Malfoy _again_.

She could leave him. But she would be risking him possibly waking up and trying to hunt her down again. Not to mention he still had valuable information the order could use. Problem was she didn't currently know where headquarters was located. Hogwarts was still out of the question, Snape being headmaster and all…

He still hadn't moved.

She just about uttered the body binding spell but stopped.

He was really pale. Dead-like.

She looked around and anxiously tapped her wand against her thigh. It didn't seem as though they had been followed.

Her eyes darted back to him. He was really hurt. If she wanted to keep him hostage then she needed him alive.

But reverse the tables and he'd have left her to die without a thought. How much would it matter in the long run if she left him?

She let out a frustrated groan.

She had a limited amount of first aid ingredients and most of them she had already used on Ron. Furthermore, if she ran out of ingredients helping Malfoy she might not have enough for herself. Her broken arm would mend during the next couple of days and she would have no pain relief to help.

Shame flooded her.

When did she become so selfish? She was watching a human being suffer and all she could think about was her herself.

She was nothing like him and she would prove it. Not for him, but for herself.

She conjured two ropes before shoving her wand into her pocket and proceeding to awkwardly tie his arms behind his back and his legs together. It was difficult seeing as her handicapped arm was still in a sling.

She then rolled him onto his back. She untied her extendable pouch from her waist, reached inside and dug until she found scissors. She quickly cut his shirt from the button line to the stick, slowing down a bit near the wound and then dropped the scissors back into the bag.

She hesitated for only a moment before she grabbed his soaked shirt and pulled it until most of the buttons came off.

His skin was soaked in blood and sweat; the smell was horrid.

She reached into her bag once more, pulling out what resembled a crystal perfume bottle. Less than half of its content remained.

She pulled off the cap and reached down to grab the stick protruding from his chest. She would need to be faster than the blood waiting to pool out from it.

She counted to three and pulled.

Malfoy howled in agony and rolled onto his side as a reflex.

"Oh no!" she panicked as saw a fresh pool of blood gush from the gaping wound.

She grabbed his shoulder and pushed him onto his back.

As she let go of his shoulder to grab her wand he started to roll onto his side once more.

"Stop it!" she shrieked.

But Malfoy was delirious with pain and her words fell on deaf ears.

Losing time, she replaced her hand with her knee and grabbed her wand.

"Augamenti," she said, pointing it at his wound.

Blood splashed away from it and she quickly poured the green potion into the gaping hole.

She dropped the bottle and quickly bent forward to put both her hands atop it, applying all her weight and praying for the best.

Malfoy squirmed underneath her, cutting his own cries short as if every breath was too unbearable to finish.

Finally, he stopped.

She looked at his face from her perch above him.

He was passed out again.

Slowly, she released the pressure of her hands on his wound.

When she deemed it safe to peek underneath, new tissue had partially formed. The hole was sealed over, but it looked deformed, angry and red; like a second degree burn.

She let out a sigh of exhaustion and sat down.

The wound still had healing to do. She picked up her bag and returned the empty vial inside of it.

Deciding she deserved it, she pulled up the whiskey container holding her analgesic potion and took a swing from it. Its immediate effects made her close her eyes and sigh in relief.

She looked back down to Malfoy whose breathing had returned to normal. It seemed like he would be out for a while.

She swished the contents of her container.

Half a bottle left. Both of them would be in pain. The little flask wouldn't last very long.

Taking one last deep breath, she pulled herself to her feet.

She still had a camp and wards to set up.

* * *

Hermione sat in front of the fire outside the tent. She had double and triple checked the wards this time. She couldn't figure out how the snatcher had found them. She went over it for a third time. She didn't miss anything. All her spells had been properly incanted and she had done her usual walk around the perimeter every two hours. Nothing. No clue as to how they had been discovered.

She looked over at Malfoy, still unconscious where she had left him. Perhaps she would be able to get him to tell her.

 _Doubtful._

Her stomach gave a growl so she pulled a power bar from her bag. She had enough snacks to last her another week.

Her thoughts floated back to Harry and Ron. She had the bag. They had nothing. No food, no provisions, no shelter.

She had confidence they would manage. She just needed to formulate a plan to find them.

A pained groan caught her attention.

If only she wasn't stuck with _him_ as deadweight.

She got up and walked over to Draco as the sun shined its last ray'-s through the trees.

He was mumbling in his sleep; and he was sweating again. It was early to be developing an infection, but if he was, he was on his own to fight it off. She used the last of her healing potion on him.

Deciding it was time to retreat for the night; she pulled out her wand and levitated him into the tent.

She gently placed him onto Harry's bed and made sure the binding of his hands and feet were secure. The last thing she needed was for him to wake up and attack her while she slept.

She walked over to her bed and hid her wand in her pillow cover. Just in case.

She relaxed as she listened to his groans and moans.

It humanized him.

Hearing an adversary cry out in pain and fear was sobering and she was once again reminded that they were at war.

Nothing about this was going to be pleasant.

* * *

The next two days were uneventful. She spent her time looking for edible herbs, potion ingredients and reading from the books she had. He would drift in and out of consciousness, always incoherent and never fully awake. Her arm was now out of the sling and her whiskey flask was just about empty.

She had been outside all morning and practiced what she would say to him for when he did wake up.

"Oh hello, I healed you and kept you safe these past couples of days, would you mind telling me how you and your dad found us?" she sarcastically said aloud.

No that won't do.

She tried again, really trying to get into it.

"Now you listen here; you are alone, wandless and without me, you'd be dead."

She groaned in defeat. If Harry were here he'd handle this.

She solemnly looked at the tent.

But he wasn't.

And she was the one who was alone.

Her shoulders slumped as she headed inside to grab another book.

When she took the first couple of steps inside she gagged.

The smell was foul.

Was this what she had been living in? How did she not notice?

She looked at Malfoy. He was still in his stained clothes. The layers of sweat and blood hadn't been touched.

No amount of scourgify was going to clean him.

He needed a bath.

She gagged again.

Desperately.

She grabbed her wand out of her pants and levitated him.

This was happening. Much to her horror; she was going to bathe Draco Malfoy.

* * *

She walked with him levitating in front of her almost fifteen minutes before they reached the nearby lake.

She gently placed him on the rough sand at her usual bathing spot.

How on earth was she going to do this? What if he woke up?

She dipped her hand in the water.

It was really cold.

Deciding she would dry her clothes off later, she quickly thought of her plan of action, took off her shoes and socks and stepped into the water.

When she reached hip deep, she levitated him once more, this time bringing him to her.

God, she hated going into the lake. She wished for a real bath, or a hot tub, even a volcano at this point.

She prepared herself and grabbed one of his elbow's as she slowly lowered him into the water and then relaxed when he didn't react.

She brought a knee up to support his upper back as she put her wand back into her pocket. His head bobbed back and she panicked, grabbing it before his nose submerged.

She gave a nervous laugh after she stabilized his floating body. No one would believe her if she ever recounted this moment.

With one hand keeping his head afloat and her knee stabilizing his torso, she reached into her front pocket hand pulled out the bar of soap.

Just the essentials.

She began scrubbing the soap onto his chest and made a face when the blood easily came off.

She did his neck, his arms, and his back, as far as his open shirt would let her. She was quite proud of herself actually; she was pulling off this balancing task quite well.

She tried to ignore the floating blood that surrounded them.

She made sure to go around his wound gently and then made her way to his navel.

That should do it. No more needed. Mandrakes would sing before she would touch any more of this man.

She pocketed the newly pebble sized soap and grabbed her wand.

As she levitated him out, she noticed she was absolutely freezing and her shivering hand was making Malfoy's levitating body shake.

She gently placed him on the ground and gave her wand a complicated wave so that hot air streamed out of the tip; she then pointed it to her clothes and extremities, which steamed as they dried out.

Now dry and warm, she turned her wand to Malfoy and waited for the water to evaporate from his front.

When she was satisfied, she rolled him onto his side and proceeded to dry off his back. The sand from the beach clung to him as he dried and she figured she would pat it off outside the tent when they returned. With that thought, she levitated him once more.

It was more difficult going uphill with him. She had to maneuver him around the trees and branches that seemed to be working against her.

She paused before the campsite as she noticed his body had accumulated a number of scratches from the bramble.

She put him down on a towel in front of her tent and used it to help her brush off the dry sand from his back.

As her hand swatted at him, she noticed Malfoy was built a little like Harry, taller and slightly larger since she last seen him, but both men were slender. Despite buying his way onto the Quidditch team, Malfoy had become quite good and the only real challenge Harry ever had to deal with on the field. Like Harry, his physique reflected his training.

When she got most of the sand off, she levitated him into the tent and back onto Harry's bed.

* * *

She managed to gather a few forest ingredients for a locator charm and she organized them in their respective compartments inside her bag. The sun had set and the campfire glow was on the verge of disappearing, making the little floating ball of paper she had set fire to her only real lighting as it slowly burned above her inside the tent.

She pulled out the little glass bottle that, until recently, contained the last of her healing potion and held it out in front of her.

How could she make use of this newly emptied item?

The glow of her little fire highlighted the Mudblood engraving on her arm.

It was hideous.

Anger and resentment bubbled within her; she vigorously rubbed at it. Nothing she had tried had fixed it. Mrs. Weasley was right, it was definitely cursed.

The firelight that reflected onto the crystal made her look at the bottle again. She unscrewed the lid and furiously dabbed the opening of the bottle to her scar. Hidden drops escaped and moistened the skin. She stopped for a moment as the skin became bright red, the letters accentuated onto her pale arm before sizzling back into scar tissue.

She sighed in disappointment.

Same result as the last time.

"That's pathetic," croaked Malfoy.

Hermione almost dropped the bottle.

He was awake.

End of chapter 6.

Author's note: Hey guys! Sorry, this one took so long! I was in the middle of exams. Buuuuuut I'm done now and I'm already about halfway through chapter 7.

Drop a review! See you again soon.

Nugget for chapter 7: Let the banter begin!


	7. Chapter 7

"You're awake," she stated. "How are you feeling?"

"Like utter shit."

"It could have been worse," she said as she began searching her bag for the flask.

"Would have been better had you drowned," he sneered.

"I saved your life," she stated matter-of-factly.

"You would have been my murderer if you hadn't. I know you Granger, it's not something you could have lived with."

She finally pulled out the painkiller and perched herself on the side of the bed.

"Don't psychoanalyze me. You used me as a human shield and then tried to drown me. I wouldn't have reacted that way if I wasn't in fear for my life."

She got up from her bed and walked over to him, swishing the contents of the flask.

"Here," she said. "It'll help with the pain" she added when he didn't make a move to grab it.

"What's in it?"

"A mixture of Murtlap and Dittany essence."

"You combined them? Didn't anyone ever teach you not to play with drugs?"

"I couldn't care less Malfoy, either you take it or you don't."

Draco paused before becoming impatient.

"Well give it to me then, I can't bloody well drink it on my own with my hands tied can I?"

She pulled out her wand and vanished the ropes around his wrists. She kept the wand strained on him as she handed him the flask.

"One or two sips will do," she instructed.

Draco ignored her and took a full swing.

"I said a sip," she snapped as she yanked it out of his hand.

It was practically empty now. She creased her brows in anger.

"Now there's none left for either of us."

"I won't need anymore," he stated.

"And what about me?" She crossed her arms.

"I couldn't care less," he said as he started pulling ropes off his feet.

She knew it to be true.

"You're still my hostage," she stated, watching him.

"Sure Granger."

"I mean it; try to run and I'll be forced to stop you."

"I'm not going anywhere," he answered.

He was being awfully calm she noticed. They weren't yet yelling or tearing each other's heads off. It was unnerving.

"I mean it," she pushed.

"I'm sure you do."

He swung his legs out to the side of the bed and got up to stretch.

He stopped and looked at his open chest.

"Did you undress me?"

"You needed a wash."

His mouth curled in disgust as his eyes became angry.

"Don't touch me Granger," he snarled. "Ever."

"Your corpse was rotting the tent."

"So you left my shirt open to remunerate yourself for your hard work then?"

"No, I didn't want to touch you more than necessary," she said uncomfortably.

"You're just sad Granger, you should have asked the Weasel or Pothead to get you off when you had the chance."

Her elbow snapped open as she fiercely threatened him with her wand.

"Piss off Malfoy,"

"Think I'm afraid of _you_? You won't do anything Granger. Your Gryffindor morals and ethics make you weak and predictable."

"Push me enough and find out" she replied.

"Please," he spat and stepped out of the tent. "Don't make me laugh."

She followed him.

"And where do you think you are going?"

"Somewhere you don't get a free show," he marched while buttoning up his top.

He noticed the cut in it and stopped in his tracks. He turned to her and pointed to it.

"What the _fuck_ did you do to my shirt?"

She stopped.

"How did you think I got the stick out? I needed to see what I was doing."

"This shirt cost more than you are worth."

"No object is worth more than a person Malfoy," she said as her cheeks flamed.

He stepped forward into her personal space.

"When the dark lord becomes supreme, you'll most likely be worth less than one of the hand-me-down robes the Weasley's keep sharing."

"There's nothing wrong with a good set of-"

"Fix this," he cut her off while he pulled at the cut material.

"I…no."

"No?"

"I said no, Malfoy. Ask me nicely, thank me for saving your life and apologize for your rude behavior and I might consider it."

He sneered at her as he considered her words. Her audacity was outrageous. She truly had no sense of how little she belonged in his world. Her impure blood didn't deserve to practice magic.

"Useless mudblood," he said as he turned to walk away.

It stung every time she heard the phrase. Not only because it was demeaning but because it came from someone like him. A person who had never been shown the value of a human being.

She had enough.

She outstretched her arm to him.

"Say that word one more time," she spoke quietly.

He stopped and turned halfway. His eyes fell to the wand in her hand.

"Or what, Granger?" He smiled before laughing. "Going to stab me again? Tie me up?"

He moved closer and held up his blistered wrist, "maybe burn me?"

She glared at him, anger filling her, but eventually dropped her arm.

He huffed as he turned back to walk towards the edge of her wards, "predictable."

Hermione took a few steps after him. Her anger boiled over as tears threatened to fall. He was such a bully. He hadn't changed at all.

He stopped at the edge of her wards and looked around.

She stopped as well.

He fidgeted with his burnt wrist while he stood there, as if he were waiting on the night bus to show up.

She waited silently.

He dropped his hands and huffed again.

He turned twice, his aggravation growing and looking more and more confused.

What was he doing?

"Where are we Granger?"

She kept silent.

He turned to look at her once more.

"No bother. It's only a matter of time before my father finds us," he said. "When he does I can't wait to see what'll become of you."

She bristled.

"Where did you get your newfound bravery from, Malfoy? As I recall you tend to run scared when you're alone and defenseless."

"I think I've proven I'm in not much danger," he smirked. Then as if another thought crossed his mind he waggled his eyebrows. "Besides, think of the fun we can have while we wait."

"Don't even think about it," she said, catching his double entendre.

He snickered, "in your dreams Granger. A house elf is more appealing."

She raised her wand to him and shot two ropes that wound itself around his wrist and legs.

He cried in pain as its coarseness grated against his burn.

"Recess is over," she stated. "It's time to go back inside."

"You fucking _bitch_."

"Wingardium Leviosa," she said as she made the motions with her wand.

He twirled in the air as she struggled to control him. Levitating his body was a lot more difficult when it was squirming.

"I'm going to kill you," he howled. "I'm going to ensure you fucking beg for mercy while I torture you."

She finally got him inside the tent, despite all the wiggling and squirming.

"You and all your little friends are going to suffer," he continued to ramble as she laid him back down on Harry's bed.

"My father's-"

"Stupify!" She loudly pronounced.

The red light smashed into his chest and he was knocked out.

Hermione let out a repressed breath and tears ran down her cheeks.

What had she been thinking?

* * *

Let me know what you think!

-Mel


	8. Chapter 8

Draco woke up parched and with searing pain in his chest. He groaned as he scrambled to undo his shirt and assess the damage. His chest was a shade of pink and his recovering wound was now red and angry.

The bitch had shot him point blank.

He moaned and clutched his chest as he sat up on the side of the bed. His ankles were still tied. He looked at his hands. They were free.

He noticed a cup of water beside his bed. Grabbing it, he guzzled down the liquid.

"Thought you might need that," said Hermione.

Draco looked over at her; she was crouched and stuffing small lamps, and other odd objects, into her bag.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"You could have killed me, Granger."

"I stunned you."

"You just about re-opened my wound," he raised his voice.

"What's done is done; you're alive and well enough to yell at me about it," she responded dryly as she stood up.

"You're such a hypocri-" he started but stopped when she flicked her wand in his direction.

The ropes at his feet unwound and disappeared. He looked at her with confusion and further suspicion.

"I need you to get out of the tent while I finish packing up," she explained.

He became alarmed but schooled his expression.

"Why are you packing?"

"Because we are leaving; it's not safe to stay in the same place for very long," she said.

With a flick of her wand, the only table and chairs in the room shrunk and flew into her bag. He kept his face passive as creeping panic settled within him. They couldn't leave. He had to ensure it.

He stood up and put his hands in his pockets, a move he hoped wouldn't catch unnecessary attention, and casually stood back.

"What about Potter and Weasley," he asked cautiously so as not to insult them. Convincing her to stay was a necessity and that meant playing nice.

She glanced over at him as the beddings rolled themselves up.

"What about them?"

"They're probably out looking for you."

"I hope not," she said. "They should be focusing on their task."

"What task would that be?"

"It's not something I can discuss with you," she said as she began folding the sheets.

"Fine, but if we leave now and they do come looking for you, you're going to miss them. Then you can chase each other in circles while the dark lord grows stronger."

She became immediately suspicious from his behavior.

"Why would you care if they find me Malfoy?"

Oops. He kicked himself internally.

"I don't. The longer we stay here, the higher the chances Donovan and Davies trace us."

"So let me get this straight," she crossed her arms. "You want us to stay here in hopes that one of our respective parties' shows up to find us."

He nodded.

"Unacceptable," she dismissed him. "If Donovan and Davies are still on our tails they will track us down within the next week. I don't know if Harry and Ron are even looking for me. It's best to leave now."

"Think about it Granger, you're the brains behind whatever operation Potter and Weasley are tasked with. Chances are, they'll hit a dead end and come searching for you."

She hesitated.

"If you lot have been running around the woods for the past couple of months, I'll bet Potter will return to the places you've been," he pressed.

"It's a possibility," she acknowledged.

Granger was an analytical thinker. Throw enough logic at her and all he had to do was wait for her to choose the most rational option. It wouldn't fail.

She mulled it over.

"Then I'll just need to leave them an indication of my presence and a hint of where they can find me next," she stated.

It failed. He resisted the urge to swear as he watched her exit the tent.

"Like what?" He snapped instead and followed her.

"Well, the fire will have freshly burnt branches in the pit," she stated and looked around the forest for further ideas.

He kept his mouth shut. He wasn't about to give her any suggestions. Her eyes fell to the sand around the fire.

"Of course," she said and bent down to write the name of a location.

When she finished, she took her wand out of her pocket and pointed it to the written word.

"A concealment charm," he laughed mockingly.

She looked to him in surprise; she hadn't even started the incantation.

"Honestly Granger, they're not that smart."

She looked as if he had insulted her, "Harry is perfectly capable of gathering the common sense to-"

"Potter's strengths lie in the defense against the dark arts, quidditch and his persistent stupidity in the face of danger-"

"You mean his bravery-"

"-while Weasley doesn't have any. If you're going to give them a hidden clue, you'd better be sure Potter can figure it out."

She frowned.

"And I don't recall either of them being exceptionally good in charms either. Expecting them to uncover a hidden message is insanely unrealistic," he finished and rubbed at his chest. His tolerance for the pain was dwindling as was his façade of keeping his cool.

He watched her grudgingly weigh the possibility of truth in his logic.

So he gave one final push and played on her empathy.

"Besides Granger, I don't think I'm ready to apparate just yet," he said, pulling open his shirt and showing her the trauma she gave him earlier.

Her face fell. She was in conflict with herself.

Bingo.

"Ok," she reluctantly agreed.

He almost let out a sigh of relief.

"Just a couple more days until you're feeling better, after that we leave," she decided and returned into the tent to unpack.

That's fine, he thought, eyes surveying the forest around them.

He suspected a few days was all he would need.

* * *

He sat down near the fire as Hermione finished unpacking.

She watched him like a hawk, ensuring he didn't attempt to make a run for it.

However, he remained seated and silent all afternoon.

His begging for them to stay did not go unnoticed. She hadn't yet figured it out, but he was clearly up to something. She checked her wards again and again while he sat there, staring into the woods, as an extra precaution.

Part of her wanted to know what it was while part of her never wanted to find out. She hated to admit he might have made a point about the boys. If they were well then the chances were high they would be looking for her. But the dangers of snatchers, death eaters, and the corrupted ministry were prominent. Every day she stayed increased the possibility of being found and captured.

Speaking of which…

She walked to the other side of the fire and squatted. She focused on the dancing flames.

"How did you find us Malfoy?" She asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he smirked.

She looked up to his face, "as a matter of fact, I would."

He leaned forward, sticking his face closer to the fire, as he taunted her, "it'll be a first: mudblood Granger doesn't have an answer to the question".

Blood rushed to her ears as the word easily slipped off his tongue. Her eyes returned to the fire, where she contemplated her next action. His attempts at provoking her always seemed to succeed. It took no effort from him.

She pulled her wand out of her pocket and pointed it at him.

His face contorted in fear at first, then annoyance as ropes shot out of the end of it and once again tied his wrists and ankles.

"Are you serious Granger," he groaned in frustration.

"I'm going to try to find us some food," she answered as rope length continued to pour from her wand.

"You will stay here and gather more firewood for when I return," she finished tying the end of the rope around a nearby tree.

"How exactly am I supposed to do that?" He asked, royally pissed.

"I don't know Malfoy," she smartly responded. "I don't have an answer to your question."

He stood there stunned a moment before shouting.

"And I'm not a sodding dog you tie up when you leave!"

It felt terribly good to leave him there; a slight grin emerged on her lips.

* * *

Authors note: Hello again! Just wanted to point out that this is, in fact, an adventure/love story and Hermione and Draco will be getting together. Having that said, I'm trying to keep them in character. Love can't happen over night and they are on opposing sides of a war. So don't worry love's! It's going to happen; just really slow ;).

See you again next week!

Love, your friendly Canadian.


	9. Chapter 9

Draco was bored. Granger had left him for over an hour now and his stomach gurgled steadily. Come to think of it he hadn't had anything to eat in almost two days. He longed for the specialty meals his mother's house elves would make when he called for them. Always fresh and exactly how he liked it.

He looked around the forest, waiting for the cavalry to arrive. They were sure taking their sweet time.

They should have been here by now. It almost worried him. If he hadn't convinced Granger to stay a little longer he would never be found. Dread washed over him. Potter and Weasley would arrive and he would eventually be handed over to somebody completely off their rocker, like Mad-Eye-Moody and put through "in-depth" questioning in an attempt to reveal the Dark Lords plans.

He huffed.

Little did they know, he hadn't been bestowed any useful or important information's. He wasn't exactly in Voldemort's good graces. His failure to kill Dumbledore had sullied the Malfoy name once more. Thus, earning him the title of coward by many in the ranks. His father, of course, had been furious. This had led to the creation of a failsafe by Bellatrix. His mother had been the only one left unruffled by his "misstep" as if she had been relieved he hadn't done it.

If he was being honest with himself, his hesitation wasn't caused by inexperience or fear…he simply couldn't go through with it. The old man had been a figure of authority since childhood and he hated to admit it, but Dumbledore had been nothing but kind. Even when he knew he didn't deserve it.

If Snape hadn't been there to finish the job…let's just say aunt "Bella" wouldn't have been so forgiving.

He grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it at the dwindling fire.

Granger had asked him to get wood. It wasn't exactly ideal to have his hands and feet tied to do it. Best he could do was pick up surrounding twigs. He didn't bother. She could get wood herself when she came back.

He smirked a little. She would have hunted, gathered the necessary tools _and_ cooked the food. Not much different from home after all.

A hissing sound by his feet caught his attention.

He looked down and yelped as a snake caught him by surprise.

He tried to push himself away but, in his panic, managed to kick it.

The snake reared its head and struck him in the leg.

He cried out in fear and pain as it coiled to strike again.

"Incendio!" said Hermione.

Her wand shot fire at the snake, which proceeded to burn and crumble into ashes.

She had already been on her way back when she heard Malfoy's scream.

Draco withered in pain on the ground, his tied arms clutching his bleeding leg.

Hermione dropped down beside him and began untying her bag from her waist.

"How did you anger an adder snake? They usually keep to themselves," she said.

"The bloody thing attacked me," he cried.

"Not likely." She held back an eye roll as she pulled out a small vase of anti-venom.

She unscrewed the cork and held it out to him.

"It's anti-venom."

This time he didn't hesitate and drank it.

When he finished he threw it aside.

"About time Granger, I just about died."

"You're barely bleeding and the antivenin was just a precaution," she said, leaning over to retrieve the vial.

"Antivenin?"

"Yes, that's the proper term for it."

"You're like a walking talking dictionary; any chance you could define the word hag for me?"

She sat back on her heels as she dropped the vial back into her pouch and secured it once more to her waist.

She wouldn't let him get to her this time.

"Are you quite done?"

"Not even close."

"Well, I caught a fox, do you know how to clean it?"

The tips of his lips curled down in disgust.

"No."

She took out her wand and vanished his ropes.

"Then go grab the wood for the fire like I asked you."

"I'm not doing fuck all-" he said, picking at his clotted bite.

"Then you can watch as I eat the meat in front of you."

He stopped and looked up at her.

Well shit.

"You're barbaric-"

"No, I don't get served hand and foot in my big mansion with servants at my every command. Out here it's a miracle if we catch a full meal. So pull your weight or starve," she said as she began magically skinning the dead animal.

He couldn't believe the nerve. How dare she speak to him like that?

He gave out some low grumbled insults as he got up and left to look for firewood.

He had to piss anyways.

"Don't go too far," she called after him.

"Take a calming draught Granger, you have food, I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

Despite her annoyance, Hermione's lips turned upwards a bit. Ultimatums work on him.

Of course, she would have fed him.

She knew that he knew it too, but thankfully, he hadn't called her bluff.

He came back a while later with his arms full of dry wood and he unceremoniously dropped them in front of her.

"There," he said. "We have enough wood for a few days. My part here is done."

"Actually, the cauldron needs water, so if you could go fill it up by the lake-"

"I'm not your bitch Granger-"

"Look, you can argue with me all night, or we can work together and get things done twice as fast," she said as she finished peeling the meat off its bone.

"Besides," she said pulling out her wand and wiggling it, "you _are_ my _bitch_."

He took a step back, shocked by her words.

Granger never swore.

Then his eyebrows creased in anger as he reached for the pot and then headed towards the lake.

Hermione smirked at his back as she watched him walk away.

For the first time in the past couple of days, she didn't feel so overwhelmed.

* * *

When he returned, his demeanor had changed.

He gently put the pot of water down and sat on the other side of the fire. It now burned brightly in the sunset glow.

She didn't say anything as she added the meat and some bones to the water and had the cauldron levitate above the fire to cook.

The water began to boil and neither of them had yet to say a word.

When everything was cooked, she levitated the bones out and poured them both some broth in plastic bowls, splitting the meat equally between them.

Draco coughed on his first bite.

"This is disgusting."

"It's not bad actually."

"You don't know what good food is."

"Don't be ridiculous; unless you're hiding a woodland cooking skill up your sleeve, this will be one of the better things you'll be eating,"

"Watch your tongue Granger, you seem to be lashing it a lot today and my patience with you is growing thin."

She couldn't help her eye roll this time and let her spoon drop into her bowl.

"Draco this is stupid-"

"Don't you dare use my first name," he spat. "You forget your place Granger; I can't wait to be able to remind you of it-"

"It's right here Malfoy," she interrupted, deadly serious. "On the other side of the fire, alone in the woods and stuck with you".

He smirked.

"We'll see," he said.

She didn't respond but kept her gaze on his unfaltering eyes.

Her good mood had vanished and sudden fear crept around her.

She broke the staring contest and looked around the forest.

Night had fallen, the birds had gone to sleep and the lack of wind made the trees eerily quiet.

She pulled her wand out of her pocket and walked around to him.

"Get up," she said.

"What?"

"It's bedtime."

"I'm not done eating," he exclaimed.

"I don't care; you didn't like it anyway."

"Granger-"

"Up," she said now pointing her wand at him, "and hands in the air."

"Is that really necessary?"

"Now Malfoy," she stressed and flicked her wand at him threateningly.

She realized her paranoia was getting the better of her but his odd behavior recently had really started throwing her for a loop. Malfoy was always cocky, but he was never brave. And lately, he was showing a lot of it.

"Alright! Alright," he said, getting up and putting his hands behind his head.

She poked her wand into his back, leading him into the tent.

"On the bed," she said.

"Geez Granger, who know you were so domineering?" He half-joked.

She waved her wand and ropes once more tied his wrists and his ankles.

He lost his balance and fell onto his bed lopsided.

"Oh ya, everyone," he answered himself.

She ignored him as she tied the other end of his rope to the leg of his bed and went back outside to check her wards again.

Everything was in place.

She sat outside until the fire died and when she turned in for the night Malfoy was breathing steady, sound asleep.

She lied down on her bed and hid her wand under her pillow case once more.

As she stared up at the ceiling, she couldn't shake off that eerie feeling.

They would leave tomorrow she decided, whether he wanted to or not.

* * *

Authors note: That was the quickest chapter I've written. I'd like to thank all my followers and reviews, I get super excited to see your comments. See you again soon!


	10. Chapter 10

Draco woke up when rustling caught his attention from outside the tent.

He sat up to get a better listen. Footsteps. More than a few.

He let out a laugh.

 _Finally._

"Hey! In here," he called loudly.

Hermione jumped, startled awake at his shout.

Her hand dove into her pillow as she instinctively grabbed her wand in fright. Her eyes were rapidly shifting around the tent.

When she didn't immediately see anything out of the ordinary she got angry for being awoken.

"Malfoy! What are you shouting ab-"

Her sentence halted as a perplexed and filthy looking man poked his head through the tent's entrance.

"Malfoy?" The man asked.

"Stupify!" Cried Hermione in surprise.

Red light shot from her wand and hit the man in the head, effectively propelling him straight out of the tent. Hermione pushed off the bed and started for the tent entrance.

"Not even Saint Potter can save you now," called Malfoy from his spot on the bed.

She stopped. So, it was _his_ people. She did a one-eighty and ran to him.

"Wait-" he started, but she had already untied the rope around his feet and the leash from the bed.

She hulled him to his feet.

"Walk," she stated.

"Don't be daft Granger, you're surrounded."

"You don't know that," she said.

He felt her wand push against his shoulder blade and a hand around one of his wrists; which were still tied together behind his back.

"Your funeral," he said smugly as she ushered him to the tent entrance.

"Ok," she said with a shaky breath once they reached the tent opening, "stick your head out."

His eyebrows shot into his hairline, "have you gone mental?"

"Just do it," she hissed.

"No, they'll blow my head off thinking it's you."

"I can only dream," she responded darkly.

With a little shove, she forced the crown of his head to poke out of the tent. Her heart fluttered as she waited for something to happen.

"Mister Malfoy, are you alright?" Sounded a voice from somewhere to the left.

"Be a lot better once you blundering idiots get me out of here," she heard him answer with an annoyed tone. "Took you long enough."

"Relax mudblood," someone sinisterly called from the front of the tent, "we're here for Potter".

They thought Harry was here.

"And me of course," added Malfoy.

Hermione's spirits lifted a little. Harry had escaped. Chances are Ron had too.

"Don't bother with another attempt at apparition," said the man in front. "We've disabled it for the entire area."

Ok, so plan A was gone.

She pushed Malfoy all the way out of the tent so she could peek a look at her situation, careful not to poke her head out.

"That's it," cooed the man from the left.

They weren't men from the ministry. Nor were they snatchers. They adorned death eater cloaks. She counted three of them, but she had no idea how many were around the tent. She quickly analyzed the situation. She couldn't do this alone.

"What are you planning to do with us?" she asked, slowly pulling Malfoy back towards her until he was in the tent entrance again, his back inside while the death eaters still had a good look at his front.

"We don't need you. Give us Potter and you and your friends may go free," the man in front snickered.

"Potter's not here," she felt Malfoy grumble to them.

Her eyes widened in fear. She debated the consequences of her next actions. She might not be able to forgive herself. Malfoy never would, she was sure. She couldn't think of a plan C and she needed to act now. Having never before preformed the spell herself, she prayed Dumbledore would help her pull it off.

With a shaky hand, she dragged her wand to the middle of Malfoy's back.

He turned his head towards her, trying to see what she was doing.

She took a couple of quick breaths, reminded herself it was her only possibility of escape and whispered, with the most feeling she could muster,

"Imperio."

Malfoy inhaled deeply as the spell spread from his back to his head. Against his will, he turned his head back to the death eaters and spoke, "he's out hunting with Weasley and the others. Granger had the honor of keeping guard."

"How many are they?" asked the man on the left.

"About 6 in total," she heard Malfoy carry out her will.

"It would be best to take them by surprise," said a man to the right.

She watched through the crack as the man on the left nodded a signal. Footsteps from around the tent retreated into the forest. The three men in front stayed put.

"Now, miss…Granger, is it," started the man on the left. "Before soon, your friends will have been round up and Harry Potter will be on his way to see the dark Lord. Speaking in your interest, it would be best to hand us over the Malfoy boy before we result in doing it ourselves."

"Promise you'll let me go?" Asked Hermione as she untied Malfoy's hands.

"I give you my word."

She sneered; he deserved an award for how sincere he sounded.

"Alright."

She stepped away from Draco and quietly made her way to the right corner of the tent.

She used her wand to silently cut the fabric to about the length of her finger, the hole was big enough to see and she stuck out her wand and pointed it to the third death eater.

By her will, Malfoy walked over to the death eater on the left.

"Your father will be most pleased we have returned you to him. I've heard through the grape vine he was quite humiliated by your performance during the last raid."

Hermione watched as the man she was looking at pulled out his wand and pointed it to the tent.

"Pity," said the man in front of the tent. "She was a pretty thing."

She set her plan into action and fired a stupefy to the man in front of her, who proceeded to hit a tree behind him. A rather loud noise was muffled as the tent absorbed the attack of retaliation from one of the other two, her wards holding. She ran back to the front and looked out of the crack to the man on the left. His wand was out and pointing to the tent.

 _Perfect_.

She cast a shield charm in front of her and ran out.

On cue, Malfoy dove for the wand of the man on the left, successfully ripping it out of his hand and stupefying him with it.

The surprise attack took the middle man off guard and she easily knocked him out.

Malfoy had finished hexing a fourth man she had not seen near the back of the tent.

With all visible death eaters down, she ran.

She needed to gain some distance from the others before they returned.

What's more, she didn't know how many of them they were, so if she ran into them, she might need back up.

She willed Malfoy to follow her.

He caught up to her relatively quickly and she made a mental note not to use "run away" from him as a plan should she ever need to escape him.

She ran until she was winded and came to a stop, Malfoy right beside her. She tried to apparate, but the spell seemingly covered a very wide area of the forest.

Keeping hold over Malfoy's conscience was mentally and physically draining her. It was a real miracle she had pulled off. Still, she propelled her legs forward.

They had run for what seemed hours and she could feel it taking a toll on her. It was around noon when her magical reserve just about emptied. There were no other signs of death eaters.

She took Malfoy's wand from him and stuffed it into her bag, tied at her waist.

She pointed her own wand to him and silenced him.

This was going to be an ordeal she was not ready to deal with.

She'd heard of wizards losing their mind when the imperius curse was poorly casted. She hoped to God she didn't have a brain dead Malfoy.

She hesitated, partly in fear of his reaction, partly in fear of his lack thereof.

As she felt the last of her magic pour out from her, she lifted the imperius curse.

* * *

Author's note: Hi guys! Sorry this one took a bit longer, next one shouln't be so long of a wait ;).


	11. Chapter 11

She waited for him to mutely become blind with rage and lash out.

He didn't. He adorned a continuous zoned out expression, cloudy eyes staring off into the distance. No change in demeanor at all.

"Malfoy?" She tried. His eyes flickered.

Without moving his head, he slowly looked around, as if he couldn't remember where he was.

"Malfoy?" She tried again a little softer. He didn't seem to notice her presence. His brows creased and he frowned, bringing his arms behind him and slowly sinking to the ground, crossed legged.

Unsure of how to proceed, Hermione sat in front of him.

"Can you hear me?"

He didn't respond. She lifted her hand to his eyes and waved.

Fear crept into her chest when he didn't blink.

So she slapped him.

It wasn't particularly hard, but his head turned to the side with the impact. She frowned.

Didn't defend, didn't react.

"Oh no…" she whispered to herself.

She rubbed her hands on her thighs, wiping the sweat from her palms and brought her hands up to his face, manually turning his head forward again.

He still hadn't acknowledged her.

At a loss of what to do, she just sat there, watching him for a while.

It wasn't a particularly warm day and the cold seeped into her from the ground.

She remembered she no longer had a tent for shelter or warmth. The early fall season was unpredictable and freezing overnight was not on her to do list.

She got up from her spot on the ground and left to find shelter.

She searched the surrounding perimeter with her wand at the ready. There were no lakes, no caves, no open areas. Just the forest that seemed to mock her as the sun began it's descent from its peak. Dusk was approaching and hunger from the day's events made itself known.

The trickling of water from a nearby rivulet caught her attention and she followed the sound until she found the running stream. It was no larger than the width of her arm.

She crouched down to put both of her hands in the cold water and brought them back up to her mouth repeatedly, relishing the cold drink as it invaded her parched throat.

She dropped her hands back into the water as her thoughts drifted to Malfoy. If he had regained his sense, he might have tried to return to the camp. If not, she imagined him still sitting there, staring out into the emptiness of the woods. What if he had woken up and was waiting for her return - only to catch her off guard and overpower her?

She rolled her eyes at herself. She regretted not tying him back up.

But what if he never woke up at all?

 _Urrgh…_

Her numbing hands brought her back to the present and she pulled them out of the water.

It would be entirely her fault.

Her shoulders sank a little as the weight added itself to her already heavy conscious. She was a good person. She didn't enjoy what she did and was overwhelmingly ashamed.

It wasn't her fault. She needed an escape. It was the only plan she could come up with.

She rubbed her moist eyes and wiped at her runny nose.

It was both, she concluded. As such, she gave herself a partial responsibility towards him.

She reached into her beaded bag and pulled out a large mug then filled it up from the stream. With her other hand, she reached into her back pocket and she pulled out her wand, just to be safe.

She had already messed up his mind. She didn't have the heart to break his body too.

Full cup in hand, she got up and slowly started walking in the general direction from which she came, catching an old footprint of hers every now and again.

Recapping the day's events, she thought over how death eaters had found her… again. It didn't make any sense. All her wards were up. Even if they traced back to her apparition site, they shouldn't have been able to see her or the entire campsite for that matter. Yet, they had known exactly where she was. It bothered her.

Darkness had almost completely engulfed the area by the time she reached her destination.

On the root of one of the trees, she saw him, his platinum blond hair a stark contrast to his environment. She sighed. He was still there, on the ground.

When she approached, she noticed he had picked up a handful of dirt and was gently letting the soil fall out of his hand before picking it back up and repeating the motion.

"Malfoy?"

He looked up at her with dead eyes. Completely void of recognition.

 _Well_ , she thought. _It was a start._

She pocketed her wand and sat down in front of him.

"Here, I brought you some water." She said, lifting the cup.

He looked at it and then looked back at her.

"You drink from it" she stated, a little uncomfortable.

"See?" She pressed, taking a small sip. It felt very wrong talking to him like a child.

His hair was out of place, his clothes were filthy and his void expressions unsettled her. He was the shell of a man, with no fight and no thoughts.

Upon his vacant stare, she shifted closer to him and slowly lifted the cup once more. He slowly leaned away, suddenly radiating uncertainty.

The corners of her lips upturned. It was the first time she was this close to him without enduring his contempt and usual disgust towards her.

She slowly stretched her arm until the cup touched his lips. To her relief, a lightbulb went on and he slowly started to drink, water escaping his mouth and running down his chin.

She brought her other hand up and quickly wiped it away before readjusting the cup for him.

As he greedily drank, her eyes began roaming his face.

If she was being honest with herself, he had always been quite attractive. With sharp features, distinguishable blond hair and striking grey eyes: more handsome than she cared to admit. Not to mention the symmetry in his features. Too bad he regularly tarnished it with scowling characteristics and a hateful personality.

She suddenly realized she was disappointed. What a waste.

At one time she thought if she proved to him and the rest of the Slytherin house how good she could be at magic, then maybe they would stop looking down on her and they could live as equals, free of bigotry.

Those days were long gone.

She pulled the cup back a little to give him some air.

She learned the hard way, no matter how much you try to prove yourself, it wouldn't make any difference. Pureblood supremacy was ingrained into their minds and it poisoned their hearts.

She brought the cup to his lips once more.

Ron would probably scold her for helping him. That this was a pointless attempt at self-absorption to compensate for her earlier sins. That he deserved what he got.

"Mum…" He murmured against the ceramic.

She brought the cup back down, now empty, and put it on the ground beside her.

His expression softened into sadness as he brought his knees up and leaned on them.

She stayed silent.

"It's okay…" He soothed.

Hermione pulled her knees to her chest and held them, keeping her mouth shut.

This was…unexpected. He was reminiscing or hallucinating she figured.

"..in our house.." He continued, letting random parts of his sentence go unsaid.

"Draco?" She tried.

He turned his head in her direction, eyes darting to the ground.

"They're terrorizing us," he whispered.

Her eyebrows raised, "who is terrorizing you?"

"No, we don't."

"Don't what?"

"We could run."

"Run where? What are you…oh never mind." She huffed and looked away. He was confused. This was going nowhere.

But he answered her.

"To the safe house."

Her head snapped back to him. This could be…good information.

"We could bring the house elves," he carried on.

She cleared her throat.

"Which one, Draco?" She responded, trying out a haughty tone, imagining the Malfoy's to own a number of estates throughout the country.

"France would be the safest bet," he said now deep in thought.

"With whom would you go?"

"With you, of course," he said with a remarkable amount of tenderness.

She was taken aback. Hearing compassion from Malfoy was like hearing a dog meow.

"To do what?" She urged.

"Hide. We can't stay here any longer. It's only a matter of time before they catch Potter. When the hunt is over and the Dark Lord becomes supreme, what do you think he'll do with us? He has our house, he controls the ministry; father just gave him access to our volts and assets." He said, voice rising in volume.

"Do you think he'll pardon us for our transgressions? What do you think is going to happen to us when he's done?" his emotions coming back to him as he reached hysteria.

His eyes, now wet with tears finally reached hers.

"To me?"

Her sympathetic nature kicked in and the opportune moment of freelance interrogation was forgotten.

"You're safe right now," she tried.

He snorted. "Only because they can still make use of me."

"Well," she started.

"You're not." He interrupted.

"Sorry?" She said confused.

"Won't be long until they find a creative way to torture us."

His voice softened as he looked away, "I can't lose you..."

She sharply inhaled.

She knew it wasn't true. He was speaking to his mother. But the look he gave her was so sincere…it was love.

She scolded herself for forgetting he was a human being with emotions. A human with family, whom he loved deeply. Watching him pour out in front of her, it was almost too surreal to take in. She'd never seen him so vulnerable before.

Her heart melted and she reached forward to touch his knee.

"We're going to be alright Malfoy." She said, giving it a little shake in an effort to convey her sincerity.

His brows creased.

"Malfoy?" He repeated as his eyes darted back to hers, alert and full of life.

She drew a sharp breath. _Oops._

* * *

Authors note: Already started chapter 12, have a great week everyone!


	12. Chapter 12

The pounding in his head was distracting. His mother had retreated from her sister's hissy fit in the foyer and followed him into his bedroom. He opened the decanter holding his bourbon and took a swing. Blinking a twice, he gave his head a shake. It was familiar, like a déjas-vu.

"That was inappropriate, Draco," said Mrs. Malfoy.

"You're right, I should have used a glass," he responded, lifting the vial again.

"You're lucky she didn't curse you." Her nostrils flared.

"No, I was lucky you were there."

"You can't expect me to cover for you. I can't always be there," she hissed.

"Sure you will."

"Are you really that delusional?" She breathed exasperatedly.

"No."

"Then find favor within the ranks. Your father-"

"Is now considered a joke-"

"Don't speak of such things" she snapped.

He put the bottle back on the shelf.

"Your father and I are tirelessly working to keep you safe" she snapped.

"By boasting about my marks at school? My flying ability?" He rolled his eyes as the sarcasm dripped from his tongue.

"Anything that will remind them of your value," she said, voice cracking.

His turned his head, his vision groggy but clear enough to see the lone tear run down her cheek. Regret filled him. He had seen his mother cry only three times in his life. This made four.

"Mum…" he murmured, his tone softening.

"I need you to be safe-" she pleaded.

"I am mum…" he said gently, making his way over to her.

She turned her head away from him but continued to stand tall, ever the dignified woman.

"-You're making things increasingly difficult."

He brought his hand to her arm.

"It's okay," he said, trying to soothe her.

"No Draco, it's not." Her eyes flashing back to him, stricken with anger.

"Well I'm sick of it."

She gave an exaggerated huff, "Well it's a little late to call the healer".

"I'm serious. This was supposed to be an honour-"

Her eyes widened, "Draco".

"They're in our house, in the living and dining rooms-"

"Draco."

"Hell, just yesterday I was kicked out of the library so the space could be used for interrogation," he said sharply, making wide gestures with his hands for the lack of a better term for torture.

"Draco," she uttered, "it is an honor to be the Dark Lords headquarters".

"Isn't that sort of thing supposed to be kept to the dungeons?" He pressed.

She cleared her throat, "It was".

"Don't you see mum?" He walked over and sat on his bed, "they're taking over."

"You are being ungrateful-" she said warningly, tone lowered cautiously.

"I'm not ungrateful," he said. "I am honoured the Dark Lord is staying with us. It's Dolohov, Greyback and Karkaroff that's the problem. They're running around our house, demanding services like we're house elves."

"They are working under the orders of the Dark Lord-"

Draco dropped his head.

"They're terrorizing us," he whispered.

His mother walked up to him and took a seat beside him, letting her hand fall on his back.

"For now, we need to play along."

He raised his head back up and looked straight at the door.

"No, we don't."

"I beg your pardon?"

He turned to look at her.

"We could run."

She expelled a breath resembling a laugh.

"Run where?"

"To the safe house."

"And just how would we manage?"

"We could bring the house elves."

"Which one, Draco?"

Draco frowned in confusion. Which one? Did she mean which house elf or which safe house?

The room darkened considerably, his eyes roamed the walls as they readjusted to the new setting.

Draco reconsidered; she must have meant which safe house.

"France would be the safest bet," he finally said. "It's the most heavily warded."

"With whom would you go?" Asked his mother, leaning in.

"With you, of course," he said sincerely. What an odd question.

"To do what?"

Did he not just explain himself?

"Hide. We can't stay here any longer. It's only a matter of time before they catch Potter. When the hunt is over and the Dark Lord becomes supreme, what do you think he'll do with us? He has our house, he controls the ministry; father just gave him access to our volts and assets." He added, voice rising in volume.

He looked over to her and nearly jumped back, seeing his mother sprouting untamed bushy hair in the place of her naturally sleek blonde.

He rapidly blinked, the mirage disappearing, leaving him with his mother once more. He glanced at the bourbon on its stand before continuing.

"Do you think he'll pardon us for our transgressions? What do you think is going to happen to us when he's done?" He panicked. To say he felt unwell was an understatement.

His eyes flew to his mother's in an attempt to ground himself, "To me?".

"You're safe right now" she reassured, "I made sure of it".

"Only because they can still make use of me."

He turned his head away as she brought her hand to his face.

"Well," she started, but he cut her off.

"You're not," he realized.

"Sorry?" She said, sounding confused and out of character.

"Won't be long until they find a creative way to torture us."

"That's why we are dealing with this before such an opportunity can knock."

A heartbeat passed before he softly responded.

"I can't lose you mum."

"We're going to be alright Malfoy," said the woman beside him. He frowned. The voice was not his mother's.

"Malfoy?" he echoed.

Before his eyes, the hardwood of the floor darkened until it became dirt, the defining lines of the nightstands and shelves stretched until they became trees and the woman beside him morphed into a much shorter bright-eyed individual. He saw the unkempt messy hair and a genuine look of concern change to one of regret and fear.

 _Granger._

He looked at his hands and feet. No ropes. He quickly stood up, almost falling over.

"Wait," she began.

"Fuck off," he said, and took a few steps and gripped his throbbing head, "bloody hell, what did you do to me?" He said, bending over in pain.

He heard her rummaging inside her bag, "I think I might have something aimed specifically for migraines-"

"I don't want any of your shit," he said backing away.

She looked up, pitying him.

"Malfoy, I'm so, so, so sorry."

"Did you knock me out?" He groaned.

"Sort of…" she muttered.

He dropped his hands.

"What did you do?"

"I…I…"

He raised his voice, patience disappearing.

"What did you do mudblood?"

"I used the imperius curse." She whispered, not looking at him.

"Imperius?" He repeated confused.

"On who?" He asked, taking deep breaths. When she didn't answer he clued in, "on me!"

"I'm so sorry Draco-"

"Stop."

"It was the only way I could- wait come back!" She called as he retreated to the tree line.

Draco waited until he reached a large willow and sidestepped out of her view behind it. He was out of breath and his legs screamed at him. Yet he didn't know why. His head swam and with every breath, his chest wound ached. What had she made him do?

 _I need to get the hell out of here._

He pulled at the magic surrounding his navel. But nothing happened. He swore under his breath. He was either still too weak to apparate or they were still within the anti-apparition parameter. His eyes widened as another possibility came to mind.

What if she broke him?

"There you are," she said rounding the tree.

He grabbed her shoulders and slammed her into the bark.

"Give me your wand"

"What? No-"

"Give it to me. I need to know if I can still do magic."

"Why wouldn't you be able to-"

"Because I can't apparate!" He said, giving her a shake.

"Malfoy, you need a _wand_ to apparate." She calmly reminded him.

She was right.

Swallowing, he let go of her shoulders. He already knew that.

"You seem to be recovering fairly well," she said. "But I think it would be best to take it easy for a bit. I don't think you're quite…you, yet."

"And what makes you think that?" He glared at her.

She rolled her eyes.

"You ran off by yourself completely defenseless into the woods with no idea where you are and attempted to apparate after going through cognitive trauma. Slytherins are supposed to be cunning. _That_ was a stupid move," she said crossing her arms. "You're known for a lot of things Malfoy, but an _idiot_ isn't one of them."

He noted the compliment but chose to ignore her.

"Where are we anyway?" he huffed in the cold. His breath hovering in the air like smoke before eventually dissipating.

"Lost," she admitted. "With no shelter and snacks left for food."

He sniffed and rubbed his nose.

"We'd better figure out shelter then. _Son to the Malfoy heir freezes to death beside mudblood_ wasn't the goodbye title I was reaching for," he brushed past her.

Her lips pursed and she closed her eyes as her teeth clenched.

She held her breath and counted to ten, then followed him, head bobbing like an apple, "until you get your head screwed back on straight, you'd better keep it low."

His upper lip curled in disgust –was she trying to make a joke?

She cleared her throat as they made their way back.

Coming to a stop at the clearing, he turned to her, "How do you want to do this Granger?"

She tried to hide her surprise as he gave her leadership.

"Don't get cocky. You have the wand." He sneered.

Right, she nodded. Nevermind.


	13. Chapter 13

Draco watched her contemplate. His migraine was still roaring and the evening seemed to be getting colder as the seconds ticked by.

"Well?" He asked impatiently.

"I'm not sure."

"Not so bright after all."

"I don't hear you coming up with any great ideas," she snapped

He turned his head, looking for coverage or paths.

"We walk until we find something."

"No, I've walked this entire area, there's nothing but a stream forty-five minutes that way," she said, pointing with her thumb.

His eyes fell to the pouch tied to her jean's belt loop.

"What's in there?"

"As I said," she began counting with her fingers, "A couple of snacks, some potion ingredients, clothes, a couple of hygiene products and perhaps a couple of books, not counting the ones I left at camp."

His rolled his eyes before his body gave a stern shiver and he crossed his arms in response. He looked around once more, spotting dead branches underneath a tree. He walked over to them and pulled until they came loose from their tangle. He dragged them back to her, letting them drop with a thud at her feet, "Start with fire."

To his astonishment, she pulled out her wand, muttered an incantation and began to work on cutting the branches in log sized pieces, without argument.

When she finished, Hermione took a couple of steps aside and crouched. She removed the foliage from the ground with her hand.

"Try to find some rocks" she instructed, focused on her task.

"You do it. I think I've suffered enough for one day."

She paused, took a calming breath, and looked up at him.

"Would you prefer to be down here, digging a hole with your fingernails your highness?" Sarcastically waiving her dirty hands at him.

He made a face.

"I suppose you're right, only _peasants_ sully their hands."

Her hands dropped and she bitterly smacked the ground as he walked away. Maybe he was already over his head trauma. It sure seemed like it.

When he came back to the site, he wordlessly placed the rocks in a circle formation around her make-shift pit and sat opposite of her as he watched her light the fire.

The warmth was subtle and he was grateful for it, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. Silence settled between them.

Hermione sat on the other side of the pit, fatigue making her feel colder than what she was.

Finally, Malfoy spoke up.

"We're going to need more than this if we don't want to turn into human bloody popsicles by morning."

"Please contribute, I beg of you," she said with heavy sarcasm.

"Your books." He stated.

"How would that-"

"I'll show you," sticking his hand out to her.

"Oh. Oh! No."

"Come on Granger. You can't possibly think it's more important than your life".

"These books _have_ saved my life. And in retrospect, they've saved yours too."

"Are you being serious?"

"I am, I have potion preparation texts-"

"Can't use them if your dead-"

"and first aid manuals-" He got up and walked over to her.

"and a book Dumbledore gave me-"

"Right now I don't give two shits what they are," he stretched his hand out once more to her. "Do it and we might just wake up tomorrow."

He waited as she chewed her lips in consideration then let out an irritated huff, the condensed air visible once more from his quick expiration, before evaporating.

"For fucks sakes Granger, I'll buy you new books myself,"

She shot him a look of total disbelief.

"Newest editions." He added.

She didn't believe him for a second. But as a shiver raked her body, she hesitantly reached into her bag and pulled out _Advanced Potion-Making_ , and gently fingered its binding. She had taken good care of it thus far.

"Hey!" The book ripped from her hands as he snatched it from her. He opened a random page and she cringed as he tore it, crumpled it up and shoved it inside his shirt. She resigned herself to silently watch as he repeated the process; until he was so stuffed he resembled a deformed scarecrow.

Her heart sank, not only were her books useful and interesting, they were her escape when she needed to step away from the constant fear and anxiety of the ongoing warfare. She hoped they wouldn't need to use all of her paper resources because honestly, that would be dreadful.

"Here," he tossed the book into her lap, "I'll let you decide your priorities."

She flipped him the bird.

"Just calling it how I see it" he snickered and plopped down a couple of paces away from her.

She took a moment to swallow her pride, then opened the book and ripped out the pages of the first chapter, before crumpling them up and doing the same. Might as well use the chapters she had already familiarized herself with first.

Silence ensued once more.

Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out two of Ron's shirts. "Did you need a pillow?"

He looked at it disdainfully, "I can't believe I'm reduced to this."

She chucked it at him and pulled out two of Harry's shirts and rolled them up before getting up and taking a few steps towards Malfoy, the crumpling noise of the paper in her shirt evident as she went.

She took out her wand, "hands please."

"Really Granger? Again?" He whined.

"And every night until I find a way to get you to the Order's headquarters" she retorted.

"And where is that exactly?" He snapped as rope shot from her wand and bound his hands and feet once more.

"You'll know when we get there," she said, tying the ends of it to the nearest tree.

She had no clue.

She sat back in her original position and re-kindled the fire, internally debating what their next course of action should be.

"What happened today?" He asked.

She studied him for a moment before carefully choosing her answer.

"We were attacked by death eaters this morning. I used the imperious curse to have you help me escape. Then we ran pretty much all day, until I basically couldn't run anymore."

"That explains why it feels like I've been stomped all over by a Hippogriff," he said, referring to their third-year event from Hogwarts.

"Buckbeak barely scratched you," she said annoyed.

"He nearly took my arm off!"

She put her head in her hands "you're such a baby."

"You're such a hypocrite. You cried like a baby when dear aunt Bella carved your title into your arm," he said pointing at her scar with his chin.

"Are you _fucking_ shitting me?" She shrieked, "Bellatrix tortured me for information. You're comparing it to being scratched by an animal?"

"I see no difference. Oh wait, yes I do," he said maliciously, "I don't have a scar."

"You will," she replied with equal darkness, "right there." He followed her finger pointing to his chest and looked back up at her impressed. He expected tears, rage, and fire. What he didn't expect from her was ice.

His lip curved upward.

"What happened after we stopped running?" He circled back to the original subject. Best to explore the icy parts of her personality when she wasn't gripping her wand with white knuckles.

"Nothing," she clipped "I left your boggled mind alone while I searched for food and water." Lying, according to the Weasley twins, was always best delivered within a truth. They would be proud.

He nodded and said nothing else, rubbing his hands to the fire with what little movement his restraints allowed him.

Eventually, her eyelids became heavy and her mind returned to how she was going to find the Order's headquarters, but as her thoughts drifted away, she put that on hold until she could properly think it over in the morning.

* * *

Draco didn't sleep a wink. The paper insulation kept him warm but his back, his hands, and his feet were numb. He had slept directly beside the rocks of the fire pit, desperately soaking up any heat it offered. He growled. The morning wasn't warming up fast enough.

He noticed Hermione had also moved closer to the fire, but she had slept soundly most of the night.

"Granger." She hummed in response, unstirred.

"Granger wake up, I'm losing circulation."

Her eyes cracked open and she made a disappointed grunting sound.

"Today would be great."

She slowly reached for her wand and when she grabbed it, made a half fast attempt to wave it. Nevertheless, his bounds untied themselves.

He rocked back and used the motion to propel himself up. Looking around, the forest was much more welcoming in the morning light. He gave his hands and feet a shake than attempted a stretch but flinched, his aching chest not agreeing with the movement.

"Let's get going Granger, I don't want a repeat of last night," he said, rubbing his ribcage.

"What? Wasn't as good for you as it was for me?" She said with a yawn.

He just looked at her.

She woke all the way up, "that didn't come out right."

"No wonder you don't want to get up," he snickered.

"That's not what I meant," she stood up.

A genuine laugh of amusement escaped him at her flustered composure.

"I-oh forget it." She rolled her eyes. She should have just put a shoe in her mouth.

* * *

Authors note: Hope you enjoyed this one! I've already got two future chapters written, just not in order :p

I'm getting excited to show you where this is leading. Happy reading! - Mel


	14. Chapter 14

They had been walking, not quite side by side for the greater part of the day. The rain, a reflection of their current emotional state, soaked them and caused the stream to rise as they walked on either side of it. Hermione thought it to be a frighteningly accurate representation of their situation; divided by war, on opposing sides: each tired and miserable: and striding in the direction of victory. It was only a matter of who would cross the finish line first.

She walked with her wand casually in her hand, ready, but off guard to say the least. They had fallen into a peaceful lull since the morning's awkwardness.

"Granger, there's a hole in the rocks over there."

She nodded in response and hopped across the stream, joining him as he approached it.

"Lumos," she gave her want a jerk and the tip lit up brightly as they entered the shallow, cave-like opening covered in dark green moss.

"It's a rock shelter," explained Hermione.

"I can see that," he shook the water from his hair.

"No, it's a type of cave," she clarified. "They played an important role in muggle history. Archaeology has demonstrated that prehistoric muggles often used them as living spaces, leaving behind tools, artifacts and at times wall paintings."

He looked around a moment, attentive to her words but mostly disregarded her.

Hermione fell silent at being brushed off and after a while they found themselves leaning on opposing walls of the cave, watching the rain fall outside.

A growling from her abdomen broke the silence.

"We really should think about food," she said pocketing her wand and reaching into her bag. She pulled out a snack and took a bite before noticing his look of disdain.

"What?"

"You're disgusting. Actually eating compressed grain packaged in…what is that? Paper and aluminum foil?"

"I believe so actually."

He raised his nose at her, "sickening."

She shrugged her shoulder and took another bite.

His stomach grumbled. Her lips upturned.

"You sure you don't want some?"

"Hard pass."

"Have it your way," this time moaning loudly when she chewed.

Draco felt humiliated.

There she was, contently eating her substandard muggle nutrition, acting haughty and rubbing it in his starving face.

After watching her take a couple more bites, he took a couple of steps toward her.

She pulled the bar away from him before he could grab it.

"I thought you weren't hungry enough to lower yourself to muggle snacks."

"Well I am now," he snapped.

"Alright," she said, "on one condition."

He glared at her.

"I want you to admit that we are not so different, if only in that aspect."

"What aspect?" he growled

"We are both humans, in need of nutrition to survive."

"Oh, come on," he turned away from her.

"If only in that aspect," she repeated.

He threw his arms out, "look I never said you weren't human, of course you're going to get hungry. Like every. Other. Animal." He emphasized.

"You haven't treated me like one. Another human being, that is."

"You still don't get it, do you?" He stepped back into her personal space. "Some humans are just better than others."

"Let's entertain that idea." she nearly snarled as her annoyance at his arrogance began to bubble.

"You think me human. But a lesser human. Remind me again. Where is my place?"

"Six feet under-"

"I mean strictly speaking from your point of view, to be rid of those individuals would be a waste of talent, wouldn't it? The house of Slytherin values resourcefulness and ambition. I am intelligent. I've bested you in several, if not all, scholarly subjects." His face darkened at the reminder. "And I'm not an exception to my _kind_ either. There have been several muggle-born witches and wizards throughout history that have contributed amazing feats that we still use in today's regular wizarding society. If they had all been enslaved or _dead_ , we wouldn't have what we do today."

"A _proper_ wizard or witch would have eventually figured it out."

Hermione sighed.

"Are you not sick of this?'

"Sick of what?" he said irked, "sick of being tied up like your lapdog? Sick of always being told what to do? Sick of being bested by someone who is obviously stealing magic from others?"

"What? How on earth could I do that?"

"Mudbloods have been doing it for years."

"That's impossible and outlandish." She choked down a laugh as her brows creased.

"It's well recorded actually. During the first wizarding war, several muggle-borns were seen running out of magic in the middle of the battlefields. Those who survived retreated, where they could restock their reserves until the next battle came."

"That's not true," she said shaking her head.

"Oh, but it is. Those facts have been scratched from the history books by muggle loving traitors. Old men in power like that old fool Dumbledore-"

"-you don't get to talk about him." How dare he bring Dumbledore into this.

"-grew soft for his squib of a sister I imagine."

"What are you talking about? That's such bull-"

"That's how you were able to perform the imperious curse." He breathed. "All this time you've been gathering my magic, without me noticing."

His eyes met hers.

"I told you that's not poss-"

He lunged for her.

Her back hit the wall of the cave and her wand slipped from her hand, rolling deeper into the rock shelter.

"How are you doing it?" He screamed in her face.

"I'm not doing anything!" She hollered back.

He grabbed her shoulders and tossed her to the ground, grunting with the effort.

Before Hermione registered what had happened, he was on top of her.

"Tell me Granger!" He pinned her arms beside her head.

"I'm telling you I haven't done anything! It's impossible to steal someone's magic!"

"Stop lying!"

"I'm not!" She hollered back, arching her neck to get as close to him as possible.

Draco took a moment, flicking his eyes between her raging ones. She wasn't afraid. Then something clicked, memories from yesterday rushing back.

Hermione watched him pause a moment and pushed off of her.

He sat with his back to the opposing wall and heaved.

"You pretended to be my mother." He said, shocked and confused.

"What?" She sat up.

"You pretended to be my mother," he said, now eerily calm.

"Well for the past day and a bit, I kind of have been haven't I?"

"What did you see?"

"Nothing."

"Then what did you hear?" He snapped.

"You telling your mother you wanted to escape."

"Fucking shit." He stood up in a rage and stormed to the entrance.

"Now where are you going?"

"For a walk!"

With that, he disappeared into the rainstorm. And this time, she let him.


	15. Chapter 15

Draco's angry stride followed the creek's flow. He figured the further away he got, the less magic she could siphon from him. He sneered. It explained so much. She might have been the teacher's pet, but no way could she have pulled off the imperius curse without additional bewitchment. Resentment shimmered beneath his stormy grey eyes. But all that could end up irrelevant. His family was under enough scrutiny. And the mudblood knows he wants out. If she were to open her mouth at the wrong time…

His strong stride lost its confidence and slowed into pensive footsteps.

She could get him killed.

"Oh my God," he realized.

He stopped walking completely and ran and frustrated hand through his drenched hair.

She could get his mother killed.

"Dam it!" he roared into the rain, picking up a rock and hurling it at a nearby shrub, breaking some branches in the process. He had to find a way to keep her mouth shut.

His feet moved on their own accord and he continued his path down the stream. As the terrain began to slope, he had to grab onto the tree's to avoid losing his footing. When the ground finally leveled, he looked up to a broad and large pound, impressively spanning the length almost half of a Quidditch field. He lifted his head, closed his eyes and listened as the rain calmed into pitter patters across the water. Kicking off his shoes, he didn't bother rolling up his already soaked pants and stepped into the water until he reached his waist. He took his time, letting his body adjust to the temperature, and slowly laid back, stretched out his arms and let the rain hit his face, lulling him.

* * *

Hermione's sigh echoed off the walls of the cave. She had long ago relieved her bladder, dried off and ate yet another snack. She pulled knees to her chest and rested her back against the moss. Malfoy had been gone for quite some time now. She figured he'd come back. He's wandless and hungry, she had rationalized.

She rubbed at her shoulder where she had landed. He had been so angry he hadn't noticed the wand escape from her hand, well out of her reach. Had he paid attention, their situation would have turned out very differently.

But the rain had slowed and there was still no sight of him. She started doubting herself. Malfoy had been very confident about his back up. Like he had known they would know where they were. She rubbed her knuckles over her lips. What if he somehow got back up again and came back with snatchers? She had no idea how he had pulled that off in the first place.

The cons were quickly outweighing the pros of waiting for him.

She stood up and gripped her wand firmly before walking out of the cave to the narrow stream. She followed the path of the water, knowing it would eventually lead to a larger water source. She was just as aware that the path could also lead to Malfoy, who could be coming for her. Wand still in hand, she braced herself on the nearby tree's to keep her balance and took careful steps as the land slanted, watching as a couple of unsteady rocks crumbled underneath her feet and rolled down the hill.

There, through the woods and into a pond, she saw him. She walked down a couple more steps and found a large tree sprouting a "v" formation. She crouched behind it and looked around. He seemed to be alone but she couldn't be sure. So she watched him float for a while.

It was uncomfortable really, playing a peeping Tom. This was more something he would have a tendency to do. Her eyes fixed themselves upon him down below. His calm demeanor mixed with his platinum locks gave him an almost angelic look. It irked her to know that the image was incredibly deceiving.

Deciding it was safe, she came out of her hiding spot and approached the shore.

"Hey," she called softly. But he didn't notice, his ears submerged and his conscious lost in thought.

"Malfoy," she said a little louder. This time he heard her. He bent forward in the water and stood up, his back facing her. His broad shoulders became accentuated by the wet cloth of his shirt, clinging to the muscles underneath. She tried not to notice.

He turned and saw her. "What do you want?" he asked, noting she was completely dry.

"Well when you didn't return to the cave, I assumed you attempted an escape" she lied, crossing her arms. Well, it wasn't a complete lie.

"In my dreams, Granger" he said, starting to make his way out of the water.

"Oh wait!" she said in a way that made him pause. She pulled at the strings of her bag tied at her waist and shoved her arm inside before pulling out a small object.

"While you're in there," she pitched it to him, "you might as well wash up."

He lifted a hand out and caught it, eyeing her suspiciously before looking down on a used bar of soap.

"These should probably fit you," she continued, pulling out men's clothing and letting them drop to the ground, "if not I know some minor modification spells."

He considered telling her off but decided to inwardly agree. His hygiene needed some attention.

He settled on telling her to get lost instead.

She was taken aback.

"I beg your pardon?" she said warningly, watching him unbutton the top of his shirt.

"You heard me Granger," he said skipping a couple missing ones, "you don't get around two," and pushed through the last one.

 _Oh_.

He balled his shirt, squeezing the water from it and chucked it on to the shore and brought his hands to his pants.

"Granger," he waited.

"Yes of course!" she all but squeaked before turning around and heading back uphill.

He turned his back to her and waded a little deeper into the water.

 _Maybe she'll find herself a better view_ , he thought, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips _._

Hermione made her way to the top of the hill and refused to turn around. She palmed her face and kept her hand there, completely embarrassed with herself. She had just stood there staring at him like some blonde bimbo. Sure she had seen him without his shirt before, and quite recently. But for some reason this was different. Her eyes seemed to pay more attention to detail.

She let out a muffled huff and took her hands off her face, placing them on her hips as her gaze unfocused into the distance.

A flashback of his soaked silk shirt caressing his shape resurfaced across her vision.

"Ridiculous," she exclaimed, becoming annoyed with herself. With a shake of her head, she leaned against the bark of a nearby tree and stood watch while she waited.

Draco finished washing and walked out of the water with his pants in hand, and made his way to the pile of clothes Hermione had chucked to the ground. He picked up a modest shirt with the Gryffindor emblem embedded on the left breast. Underneath it laid somebody's underwear.

 _Fuck that_. He let it drop back to the ground.

He put his old shirt back on, unfazed by its dampness. He would walk around stark naked before he wore a Gryffindor emblem. Same goes for the unknown, most likely used underwear.

He did, however, grab the pants. He put a leg through it and paused when it jingled. Reaching his hand inside the pocket, he pulled out five golden galleons.

Who the hell did she travel with that held galleons in their pockets? Sure as hell wasn't Weasley.

He bounced the coins in his hand coming to the only other logical conclusion. Who knew Potter had money? He put the money back into his pocket.

"Hey Granger!" he shouted into the woods, "I'm done."

* * *

Sorry it took so long. My beta reader was sick and still is... so if this one is a little rusty I apologize in advance.


	16. Chapter 16

After hearing his shout, Hermione took a couple more delicate breaths and headed back. Eyes downcast, she descended the brittle landscape. She was pretty sure she had her hormones under control for the time being. It was a perfectly natural response. He was, after all, her only male company for an extended period of time, with whom she did not already have a deep connection with. Stopping for a moment, she looked around and eyed the flush surrounding hillside. Technically, she did harbor a connection to Malfoy. It was just a rather rotten one. She gave herself a slight nod. No need to make a big deal out of it.

As the rain stopped, the pound became still. Hiding behind the rainclouds, the horizon hinted a pink hue and migrating birds could be seen making their way south. Far off in the distance, across the pound and over a couple of rolling hills, she noticed a small cloud of smoke emanating from the trees.

It looked like a camp. It could be Harry and Ron.

Her heart swelled.

Or it could be snatchers.

She frowned, debating her next course of action.

"Granger?" Malfoy's voice rose from below.

"Coming," she replied.

She approached him and gathered the clothes he rejected, shaking them from the dirt putting them back in her bag.

"What now?" He asked.

"We go that way," she answered, using her wand to point across the mass of water.

"Why?"

"Because," she said, waving her arm in the direction, not wanting to explain herself.

"Because what?" he pressed, raising an eyebrow.

She pointed the wand to herself. "Because I have the wand," she said, rotating her wrist so the tip now pointed at him, "and I said so".

He gave her a sour look.

"Just trust me" she huffed, rolling her eyes. "It could very well be to your benefit."

"Ya, how's that?"

"Trust" she repeated and started walking.

"Right."

He reluctantly followed her, grumbling under his breath. Not much he could do about it anyways.

* * *

The forest around them thickened, making walking more of a slow obstacle course; dodging twigs, jumping fallen dead trees and stepping over coarse woody debris. The silence between them had stretched nearly twenty minutes before Draco spoke up.

"Any more of that tin foiled garbage in that bag of yours?"

"If you mean the snacks, then yes. But I don't have many left," she said, pushing some branches out of her way.

His hand caught the recoil before it hit him in the face.

"I'm bloody starving."

"We'll have a lunch break at noon. For now, we need to keep walking-"

"How is that bloody fair?" he ranted, "You've injured me. You've eaten like a cow-"

She stopped walking, looking at him in disbelief, "I beg your par-"

"-and _now_ you're depriving me of nutrition. You might be distantly related to Blaise. He's recently seemed to develop a knack for driving people insane-"

"You know what would drive someone insane?" She hissed before quieting her tone. "Being stuck with someone who relishes in making you miserable."

He couldn't help the taunting smile that formed his lips. "Do you relish in making me miserable Granger?"

"I wasn't talking about me." She answered, her hair flaring out as she whipped her head back to the front and continued to walk.

She hadn't taken the bait. It was somewhat disappointing and he was mildly surprised she denied herself the opportunity to preach him her morals. He smacked his arm and looked at the flying insect he had squished. Making a face, he brushed it off and took off after her. His long strides easily caught up and he slowed to walk beside her.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but relaxed when he ignored her and focused on his path. The unmistakable hum of mosquitoes became apparent as they walked. Hermione had already killed four and could sense Malfoy's growing agitation.

"Granger!" he snapped, picking up the pace and swooshing the air. "Shoot me a repellant spell."

"If I knew one I would have already cast it," she replied, hand waving off a couple of bloodsuckers that wouldn't' leave her alone.

He stuck his hand out to her, midstride, "I know one."

"Not happening," she said, watching her steps.

"Granger, give me the wand," he pressed, his open hand swatting the bugs with another quick wave.

"Just how stupid do you think I am?" she quickly rebutted, and immediately chastised herself for giving him ammo.

"You're everything but stupid Granger, and you use every opportunity to remind me of it." He growled.

Her head shot up to look at him, astonished, as he walked past her. Then quickly became distracted by the buzzing around her ears.

He stopped and turned to her as she caught up and surveyed the ground a moment before bending and picking up a wand-like twig.

"The incantation is _insectum repello_ " he said, giving the twig a simple wave followed by a large circular motion.

"Sorry," she said, looking back to him, "do it again".

He repeated the motions, although rather quickly.

Hermione attempted to copy his motions and said the incantation. Brown smoke emitted from the tip of her wand.

"No, like this" he walked beside her and turned so they were facing the same direction. He did it again.

"Like this?" More smoke erupted from her wand.

"No! It's a simple fucking move Granger. A six-year-old can do it."

"You're moving too fast! How am I supposed to learn when it looks like your trying to conduct an orchestra!"

"A wha…?" He said, not getting the reference.

"Look," he sighed and took a step behind her, grabbing her wrist and pushed up to lift it.

She went rigid.

"Relax, you're still holding the wand," he said mildly annoyed.

Hermione slackened the joints in her arm and let him guide her through the motions. His chest expanded behind her, making her acutely aware of his proximity. She was defiantly not relaxed.

He finished the wide circle and let go of her wrist, which dropped with the lack of support.

She turned away and took a couple of steps from him, as if he were a hot iron she jumped to avoid. His brow creased; insulted she had jumped away from him so quickly. _She_ was the mudblood, She should be blessed to have him touch her.

He opened his mouth to tell her off when a dusty brown wave blew around them, effectively repelling the surrounding mosquitoes.

"Got it!" she turned back and smiled, excited and proud.

The insult died on his tongue.

* * *

Hello again! It's already been about a month since my last update. I'm really sorry for that. Hopefully, the next one will be out within two weeks! :)


	17. Chapter 17

Holy shit.

It's not that he'd never seen her smile before. She just never smiled _at_ him before. His muscles slacked in surprise. She…had beauty to her. Her smile beamed and her eyes shone brightly, lighting up all of her features. She looked like a whole new person.

"What? That was it wasn't it?" she asked, face falling and glow dissipating.

He nodded.

"Great," she said, running her fingers over her wand, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze.

"Well," she said, opening a hand to the direction they were heading and waited for him to step ahead. When he didn't move, she muttered "okay then…" her arm making a slapping noise as she let it drop against her thigh. He looked as if he was about to throw a temper tantrum. She turned and started walking - not keen on engaging the possibility.

He couldn't believe it. When she smiled, Granger resembled a pretty woman.

A memory of second year crossed his mind, when he had jinxed her overly large front teeth to grow bigger, like those of a beaver. He snorted under his breath. Really, she should be grateful. Without him, she probably would have never got her teeth fixed to the straight, pearly whites she has today. Thanks to him, she now had half a chance at ever getting laid.

His smirked widened, eyes darting to her retreating back. Then again, all she had to do was open her mouth and all the men within a twenty-foot radius would instantly recoil. He snorted a second time. Who wants to deal with that?

Hermione paused and turned to him from up ahead.

Schooling his features, he sobered up his thoughts and followed her.

Malfoy would groan a new complaint every now and again. It was really starting to grate her nerves. At first Hermione had answered him; telling him to suck it up and grow a pair. But after a while she realized his whining was more of a coping mechanism and she let him vent. At lunch they stopped and ate the last of her snacks. Draco hadn't bothered to hide his disgust as he ate, making Hermione roll her eyes. She put the paper trash back in her pouch, and they pushed on.

* * *

As the sun descended once more, so did the temperature. Malfoy had officially become quiet. The sounds of crickets and frogs in the distance filled the silence. As they walked, the forest thinned, the space between the tree's growing until eventually, a clearing opened. They stopped at the edge of the forest and scanned the area.

"I'm fine with it," shrugged Draco.

"How do you mean?" she asked, also examining the impressive grassland in front of them.

"The faster we're found, the faster I go home."

"I thought you didn't want to go home?"

"Of course I bloody want to go home," he snapped, temper already swelling.

"What's the point? I doubt you're going to convince your parents to join you on the run-"

He pointed a menacing finger at her.

"You shut the fuck up and listen to me," his expression darkened considerably, "if you tell anyone what you heard, if you tip anyone off that I even have the slightest reservations, if my family gets-"

"I won't," she said honestly.

His hand lowered in surprise.

"I mean, unless it would, by some means, save me or my friends in unavoidable circumstances. Apart from that, it's really not my business."

Though that wasn't totally true. The Order could use him. Maybe they would offer him protection in return for information. That sort of made it her business, she supposed.

"Didn't you just hear me?" He breathed, fear and rage bubbling beneath the surface of his icy stare. "No one finds out. Ever."

"I can't make that promise," she calmly replied, having already given it some thought, "but if I don't have a reason to bring it up, I won't."

He ripped his eyes from her, surveilling the prairie once more to stop himself from hurtling his hands at her throat. Mostly because she was still holding that bloody wand of hers. Not that it really mattered. Hermione-fucking-Granger would tattle on him. He'd get interrogated, cursed, tortured and finally executed if the Dark Lord felt merciful.

At a loss for words, a single, crazed, laugh of apprehension escaped him. She would get him killed. His arms flew open as if to say, "of course you would" and landed on his hips and he let out a huff. Blinking away the moisture pooling in his eyes, he tried to control his breathing. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't attack her and couldn't defend himself. She held the extra set of keys to his cage, and had the power to keep him locked in it.

Hermione decided not to say anything as she watched him lose his temper. Her own eyes shifted to the land in front of them and considered the dangers of them crossing out in the open. They would stick out like a sore thumb.

Snatchers, death eaters, government officials…everyone was out looking for them. To cross it would initiate a game of Russian roulette.

When Draco spoke up Hermione jolted from her thoughts to look at him.

"You might as well kill me now," he said starring into the distance and voice dripping with resentment as his features shifted, becoming calm and statuesque.

His eyes slowly drifted back to her as she furrowed her eyebrows.

"I'm serious."

"I'm not going to kill you-"

"I'm going to kill you," his lips tightened, "as soon as I get the chance. Save your friends the heartbreak and get rid of me while you can."

His reply was malicious and angry. Self-destructive.

As she watched his eyes brim with hatred, Hermione found herself instantly pitying him. His situation was not easy…in some ways he might actually have it worse than she did.

Solidifying her resolve, she took a couple of steps until she was right in front of him, where she had to tilt her head upward to face him properly.

Beyond anguish, Draco looked away at the setting sun and gave his eyes a harsh wipe with the crook of his elbow, his pride not letting him step down from her approach.

"Draco Malfoy. I have never, nor will I ever, kill someone. You know me better than that-"

"Fuck off-"

"Secondly, given the chance to kill me, I honestly don't think you would-"

"Are you purposely being daft?" He faced her once more, wondering if she had suddenly become deranged-

"You couldn't kill Dumbledore, could you?"

He paused a moment.

"I was going to."

"…but you didn't."

He waited for her to continue.

"Draco, I don't think you're an evil person, you're just…a bad one."

"I honestly don't give two shits what you thi-"

"Finally," she cut him off sternly, "if you really want to get me killed you just might get your chance. Somewhere, across this meadow there's a fire. It could be snatchers or a member of the Order, or just some muggles out camping. I wasn't kidding when I said this could benefit you. I'm hoping to find help. Maybe you'll get your wish in the process."

He calmed, analyzing the news.

"So," she said, raising a finger and poking him square on the chest, "shut up."

His eyebrows rose in surprise, she poked him again, "pipe down."

"Work _with_ me," and again, this time a little harder, "and _maybe_ , you'll get to go home," she finished, leaving her finger against his chest a second longer to emphasize her point.

It was almost humorous then; Draco's mouth fell slightly as he quickly racked his brain for an inevitable rebellious retort.

Sighing in exhaustion, Hermione dropped her hand back to her side, "you know Malfoy…" eyes sweeping the grass before landing back on his, "I want to go home too."

His lips closed and her eyes shifted to them as they thinned into a straight, unreadable line. Catching herself, she glanced back up his face. The rage was gone, and she couldn't identify the emotion swimming behind his eyes.

The way she saw it, they currently didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Hermione turned away from him and marched into the open.

For a second time that day, Draco was at a loss of what to say. Her boldness was truly remarkable. He clutched his aching ribcage and tried to see if the horizon held smoke. It didn't.

Hermione was already making some le-way ahead of him. Once again, he followed her until he reached her, and quietly walked beside her as they had done earlier. She seemed unmoved by his earlier threat and for some reason, that unnerved him. Sneaking a glance at her, he found her focused and determined. On what, he could only guess. They both knew they would most likely find snatchers. He would be brought home to his parents and she would be executed or held as bait for Potter. Gryffindor stupidity he rationalized.

Nevertheless, Granger wasn't stupid. He crossed his arms as he entered deep thought. She could be planning to leverage what she had eavesdropped. Despite her claim of quasi-secrecy, he didn't believe her for a second. It explained her composure with him. She was calm and overconfident; she thought he was going down, no matter what.

It wouldn't happen.

"Malfoy?" Hermione turned to him, noticing him fall behind.

His anger resurfaced as he looked at her. He couldn't think of another way. He didn't have a way to kill her or obliviate her. His steps slowed in realization to what that entailed. He had to keep her away from Voldemort and his followers until he was sure that pretty little mouth of hers could be sewn shut.

* * *

Author's note:

So sorry guys! Summer kept me really busy! But I'm getting back on track. Let me know what you think :)

\- Your friendly Canadian.


	18. Chapter 18

They had walked for miles. Night emerged and starlight twinkled down at them through the frosty air. His feet were sore and his hunger had come and gone; leaving his stomach consistently achy. As if that wasn't enough, for the past three hours, his head provided a thumping, throbbing symphony that echoed and bounced inside his skull.

He'd told her, of course, but every time he stopped for a blessed break she'd turned and insisted they press on. It was miserable. But at least he wasn't alone in it. Her nervous gaze flickered across the landscape all day, occasionally glancing up to the sky as well. Her anxiety was palpable. He'd watched her fiddle with her wand as she walked, a little too frigid in her posture.

Though, he couldn't blame her. They both wore dark clothing that would stick out to anyone looking for them in the much paler grass they walked through. Still, she hadn't slowed her pace.

He held back a groan. She was a bloody relentless witch.

"Well, I think that's as far as we're going to get tonight."

"Finally!" He cried exasperatedly, letting his weight drop him to the ground. The world around him spun with the action. He leaned forward, cradling his head.

The night was bright with the moon high and full. Conjuring a light would act as a beacon, so Hermione decided against it. She sat and joined him, rustling the tall grass and dropping her wand between her crossed legs. They also couldn't light a fire. That meant no heat source. She looked at the grass around them. Maybe they could build a hut or some sort of shelter with it?

Malfoy grumbled under his breath in front of her.

No, probably not. Asking for his help was definitely out of the question. He was drained. She absentmindedly kneaded her thighs. They were both exhausted.

"What do you have for headaches in there?" he asked, nodding to her pouch and interrupting her thoughts.

"Sorry, I don't have anything to help with things like that anymore," she said earnestly. She was still a couple of ingredients short for a pain potion.

"It's fine," he sighed, "just… don't talk for a while," he said, waiting for the world to straighten again.

She quirked an eyebrow, looking over his hunching form in the moonlight. It's not like they'd been talking all day. In fact, they hadn't spoken a word in a couple of hours. Her lips turned up a little. How to shut up Draco Malfoy: utterly exhaust him.

The cut in his shirt had, at some point, ripped a little more, giving her a sort of open view of his chest. She could see the very tip of his healing injury, as the darkened skin peeked from behind the fabric. Her eyes glided a little higher, his pale skin stretching over his pectoral.

Lingering a moment, she watched the muscle contract as he brought his arm down to massage his calf. Transfixed, she watched it expand as he gave a long sigh, lazily rubbing at his leg. An image clouded her mind.

He sighed again, this time, in a bed lying next to her. She pictured him quiet and exhausted…but in a completely different manner. Something tugged below her hips.

Grabbing her wand, Hermione shot up from her position on the ground and turned away slightly in her step, ashamed of the scarlet creeping up her cheeks.

He looked up at her, surprised by her sudden movement.

"I'm going to look for food," she announced, not looking at him.

"…sure," he rolled his eyes, not really in the mood to analyze her behavior.

Hermione nodded and pushed aside the grass, gratefully taking some long-legged strides away from him.

What was wrong with her?

* * *

She pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to calm herself. This was Draco Malfoy she was thinking about. The guy whose loyalties were to himself, or the dark lord, whatever was more convenient. The guy who bullied and terrorized her in school, the guy who haughtily believes he's far more superior in every way. The guy who threatened her at least once every day and openly admitted to wanting to kill her.

The guy she was stuck with.

And apparently, she was developing some kind of twisted reversal of Stockholm syndrome.

She crossed her arms, the crisp air chilling her through her clothes. She wasn't that desperate…was she? The question resonated with her and she dug a foot in the ground, not willing to explore it.

A couple of steps in front of her, the grass rustled and a hair hopped into view, emerging from its burrow.

Her stomach lurched. _Food_.

She exclaimed an incantation, producing and firing an arrow, but the spell missed and the rabbit took off in a frightened frenzy.

"Bollocks," she groaned and pushed her legs to run after it.

"Malfoy?" he heard her shout from a distance. She hadn't been gone that long. She must have caught whatever he heard her chase.

"Over here," he answered evenly. There was no reason to shout. The meadow was proving to be a quiet area.

"Where exactly?" she sounded from a distance, "could you stand up a moment?"

"Just follow the sound of my voice Granger – you'll find me".

A couple of minutes later her silhouette emerged from the grass and she sat down across from him.

"And? Where's the food?"

"I take it the headaches gone?" she said, trying to make herself comfortable.

"It'll be better after I eat. Where is it?"

"I couldn't catch it," she responded, a little deflated.

"What do you mean you couldn't catch it? You have a wand don't you?" he grumbled condescendingly.

"Look, it was a hare, it zig-zagged, I chased it but I lost sight of it. It got away." She defended.

Does he think he could have done better? Her eyes blazed at him and her chest puffed, ready for a fight.

But Malfoy didn't hold her fire. She noticed he held his knees close to his chest, shivering, and his eyes had closed, decidedly ignoring her.

Hermione reached for her bag and opened it and sunk her arm into it, looking for the only heat source they would have the privilege of having tonight.

"Here," she said, and Draco opened his eyes as her potions book thudded to his feet, "It's going to be cold tonight."

"Then start a fire," he snapped.

She looked at him poignantly as if silently questioning his intelligence.

"You know I can't just light a fire," she finally sighed. "We have no means of building a shelter, I can't control a fire and it's the perfect way of telling the world where I am." He began ripping pages and stuffing them in his shirt.

"So we freeze tonight then? I mean I remember you having a good night last night-" she blushed at his reference-, "but I bloody well froze. No point fussing about getting caught if we don't actually wake up tomorrow."

He wasn't wrong, she thought, rubbing her arms. Tonight was already colder than the last.

He tossed her the book as he finished stuffing his shirt.

What were they going to do?

"Seriously Granger, this isn't funny," he said, teeth chattering as a breeze rolled by.

No it wasn't.

Hermione didn't answer as she copied him, ripping the pages from her book and making little balls to stuff down the front of her shirt.

"C'mon Granger think."

"I am. Fire is out. No trees to shelter the wind-" she mumbled as she closed her eyes. Trembling as the wind picked up again she went through ideas.

"Spells," he tried.

"None that will last all night,"

"How about for right now?"

Hermione picked up her wand and pointed an incantation to him with the intention of blowing hot air his way. The wind picked up in strength, taking away the heat from her wand before it had a chance to reach him.

"Any time Granger!"

"It's not working!" she hollered back, frustrated.

Hermione dropped her arm. They stared at one another for a moment. Forming an idea, Hermione looked away and reached into her bag, retrieving the clothes she used last night.

"What are you doing?"

"Adding layers," she replied as she tried to fit Harry's shirt on top of her crumply and deformed shape, the paper loudly crunching as she forced it over her torso.

"You want Ron's?" She asked, grabbing the shirt and lifting her arm to him.

Draco hesitated.

Noticing his internal struggle, she pipped up, "he'd never know. And honestly, I already feel a little warmer."

Deciding he'd hate himself another day for this, he reached out and yanked the garment out of her hand before pulling it over his head. He hadn't needed to force it. He took small comfort in knowing the Weasel had gained some weight. Particularly in the abdomen as the shirt easily stretched over his frame.

Hermione laid down and brought her knees to her chest, seeking maximal heat absorption. She heard him mumble as he followed suit, turning away from her.

* * *

He didn't know how much time had passed but he had yet to get a wink of sleep. Granger had clearly lied to him. His shivers, which looked more like convulsions, hadn't subsided despite the extra layer of clothing.

"Granger, I c-can't take this anymore," Draco said loudly, hoping to wake her up if she was lost in a blissful sleep.

"N-Neither can I," she answered immediately.

Of course, she's awake.

The sound of crunching behind him made him turn his head to look, turning over completely when he saw Hermione on her knees with her wand pointed to him.

"What the f-fuck are you-"

A rope poured out from her wand, binding his legs together.

"Argh!" he roared sitting up, "what the hell?!"

He raged, pulling at the ropes, but she had already shuffled her way over to him.

"Hands," she demanded, raising her wand once more.

"No," he recoiled, hiding his arms from her sight, "my hands are already numb Granger, you're going to cut off the circulation."

"Then I'll tie your arms," she reasoned, the cold wind whipping her hair about.

"Sod off!"

Another gust of wind on her face pushed her over the edge.

With the strength of both of her hands, she grabbed his closest shoulder and applied her entire body weight on it, causing him to roll onto his back. She was tired and frozen and frankly, she wasn't in the mood for his shit.

With his arms now exposed, she shot another rope from her wand that quickly wrapped itself around his arms. She was getting rather good at that spell.

"Granger-" he seethed, rolling on his side away from her.

"Oh, you sod off it!" she snapped and dropped down next to him. She was desperate. So she was doing what her barely functioning brain push her to do – seek warmth.

Draco turned his head to yell at her but was met with her bushy brown hair. He whipped his head back around to get it out of his face. Then her back collided with his.

What…the fuck…

Had Granger lost her marbles? She was actively pressing her back into him.

And was that her _ass_ too?

Draco bounced on the ground to get away from her. Then instantly regretted it. The wind blew up his back, reigniting the goosebumps that had suddenly disappeared moments before.

Quick as lightning, Hermione turned to him, slightly hovering over him as she pressed her wand into his cheek.

"I swear to God Malfoy, I will petrify you as I did to Neville in first year, I'll do it right now and without regret if you don't stop moving. And I won't lift the curse until morning," she added to get her point across.

He didn't answer her and didn't move. She took it he understood and she resumed her spot behind him, pressing her spine and ass into his. Draco screwed his eyes shut. Partially in fear, partially in disbelief.

Having Granger ruling over him with an iron fist was going to physically start to make him sick. Frustration swelled within him, filling his chest with bitterness and animosity. He was practically her slave; using his mind and body at her beck and call. His thoughts darkened. Under Voldemort's rule, it'd be the other way around. He mulled it over, imagining different scenarios where he could exact revenge. He shuddered, some thoughts were better than others.

Five minutes passed and his shivering ceased, the heat of her body spreading to him like a slow-burning flame, warming him from the outside in.

Sooner, rather than later, sleep and exhaustion overcame them both.

* * *

Sunlight beamed on Draco's face, rousing him from the best slumber he'd had in a week. He spread his arms, but his restraints prohibited it. A gust of hot air blew across the back of his neck, down his shirt and slithered onto his shoulder blades. His already semi-hard member twitched in response. He sighed, imagining dead unicorns and pictured his aunt Bellatrix.

He knew it was Granger behind him. He refused to let her be the reason his morning could be so good. He turned his head a little to look at her from the corner of his eye. At some point, she had turned around in her sleep and from the feel of it, she had her cold nose nuzzled into his neck. He looked down her body. She'd apparently spooned him too.

He turned his gaze back ahead of him, resting his head back on the dry ground. She'd been impressively frightening last night. Enough to make him clam up at her temper. It was the little bit of ice her personality secretly harbored. The part he'd only glimpsed at before. But to his surprise, he didn't hate the proximity. The thought turned over in his head again and again. He should feel revulsion. But he just felt…numb.

She sighed a little breath again, the hot air brushing against his spine. His cock wanted to respond. He sat up abruptly, disgusted with himself, the horror of his behavior finally crashing down on him. She was a mudblood. And not just any mudblood. Potter's mudblood. The loudmouthed, preachy, miss perfect know-it-all. And his dick apparently couldn't care less. All this time alone with her was screwing with his head. That or she scrambled things real good while she was in there.

Hermione awoke at Draco's quick movement.

"Untie me" he ordered, peeking at her from behind his bangs while keeping his back to her.

"Oh," she said, still groggy from sleep. She fumbled around the ground looking for her wand. It wasn't in her pocket.

"Now, Granger," he pressed. His morning wood wasn't going away and that was not something she needed to know. _Not_ a conversation he wanted to experience.

"Just a moment," she said, already irritated by his impatience. Finding it, she waved the incantation his way. As the day before, his restraints slithered away and disappeared.

"I'm going for a walk," he said and jumped up and into the grass, out of her sight.

"But we'll be walking all day," she answered, confused at his sudden need to escape her.

She recalled her position this morning.

Ah. That explained his reaction.

Hermione frowned a little at the thought. He was probably freaked out. She rubbed the sand away from her eyes. Well, he could deal with it however he pleased. The truth was she didn't regret it. He was warm, and to her dismay, she realized it provided her with some comfort, in light of their strange and otherwise uncomfortable situation.

Hermione picked herself up and pulled out the crumpled paper underneath her clothes and stored them back into her bag. Might as well re-use it. Then she took off Harry's extra shirt. The day was warm and it was no longer necessary.

She hesitated to put it away as her mind turned to him. She ran her fingers over the hem and clutched it tightly. She missed him and wished he was out here with her.

"Granger! Granger get it!" called Malfoy from afar.

Get what? She thought, looking up.

She tried not to giggle as she heard, more than she saw, Draco zigzagging around the field. The crumpling of the papers in his shirt exaggerated the hilarity as he ran to and fro like a crazed man.

"Useless woman, do something!" He yelled at her.

Useless woman? That wiped the smirk off her face. She sobered up, remembering who she was dealing with.

Dropping Harry's shirt into her bag, she caught up to him, ready to tell him just how useless she was going to be to him when the hare ran passed her.

"For fuck's sake, Granger," heaved Malfoy waving his hand out, "you were right there."

"On it," she stated, turning on a dime. She chased it, running this way and that, shooting arrows from her wand and completely missing it every time. It ran by Draco, who finished plucking the remaining paper from under his shirts as Hermione followed hot on its tail.

"Alright stop, stop," Draco grabbed Hermione's arm as she ran by, her momentum forcing her to turn and look at him.

"What are you doing?! It's getting away!"

"Stop," he repeated, "The bloody animal isn't leaving the area. You've been running in circles with it for almost five minutes. We need a plan."

Hunched over and trying to catch her breath, she wiped her brow, "well do you have a plan?"

She shook his hand from her arm.

"We need to corner it," he frowned.

"There's no corners as far as we can see Malfoy."

"Then we get it where we can't see it."

Hermione waited for him to finish. He waited for it to come to her.

"Oh! It's burrow!"

"Exactly. It'll calm down and return to its home," he said, scanning the area, "where we'll whack it."

"That's actually pretty crafty Malfoy," she said, offering him a small smile. He returned it with a proud smirk of his own.

"Well, I am in Slytherin," he said, soaking up her compliment.

The smile widened on her face, "yes, I know, how can I forget?"

He stood a moment, basking in the glory of his ingenious plan.

"No really, how can I forget? I've been trying to for years now and I can't seem to forget about it," she said, her smile turning into a rather cheeky grin.

His eyes darted to hers. She was being playful with him. His mind back peddled and drew the line. It was wrong. He wasn't one of her friends.

"Let's go find it," he clipped and strode forward, keeping an eye on the ground.

Feeling a little disappointed with his lack of reaction, she started in a different direction, surveying as she went.

She called him over when she found it. It was nothing more than a little bump of dirt with a cleverly hidden hole surrounded by dry grass.

"We need to draw it out where you can be waiting for it at the entrance," stated Draco. Hermione nodded and stood a few feet from the hole, wand at the ready.

"Now what?"

"Now I frighten it," he said, taking a couple of steps away, presumably atop of the den itself.

Draco looked up at her and she nodded, she stared down the hole, prepared. He jumped up and landed hard on the ground.

Nothing happened. He tried it again. And again.

"Well," said Hermione, "it was a good plan."

"It'll work. It's deeper than I expected," he said, looking around for a heavy rock he could throw down, "we just need a bigger disturbance".

Hermione's stomach gave a growl. Hunger made itself known and it wasn't happy with her.

"Let's keep moving. Maybe we'll come across that camp today-"

"Ya or maybe they've already packed up and gone. Then we would have wasted the only guaranteed food source we have," he ranted, angrily hopping on random areas around the hole.

Hermione bit her lip as a thought floated into her mind. A very, very dangerous idea that would most certainly turn Malfoy back into a bumbling zombie. Her brows furrowed. Or worse.

Her stomach gave another growl, uncaring of the risky choice she contemplated.

"You're sure a big enough distraction will have it running out of this exact hole?" she asked, weighing her options.

He looked at her, confused a moment, "well I presume so Granger, I didn't notice another one in the area."

Taking a deep breath she made a decision. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the other wand Malfoy had used…when she'd performed an unforgivable curse. She switched it to her other hand, in case she resulted in needing to use her own.

He stared it a moment.

"How long have you had that?"

"Since we escaped the deatheaters," she said honestly, watching him closely.

Draco visibly calmed as the wheels in his mind came to life. She wanted to give it to him. It was his way out. No, not quite, he thought, eyes drifting back up to Hermione. He needed to silence the mudblood first. Squishing down his excitement he carefully calculated his reaction.

"Well, toss it over then," he said, nonchalantly.

"That's not really what I had in mind," she said, bracing herself.

"How do you mean?"

"What I mean is I'll give it to you…when I'm sure you'll give it back when we're done," she said, lifting her wand at him a little to make her point.

"As in…an unbreakable vow?" he questioned.

"No, you need a third party to make an unbreakable vow," she replied, "I mean…as in I'm absolutely sure you give it back."

What the fuck was she on about? There was nothing in this world that would make him give it back to her and she knew it. No amount of cruiciatus curse would compel him to give it back to her once the wand was in his hands.

 _Compel._ Somewhere, a lightbulb turned on.

"Granger," he started, bringing his hands up and taking a step back, suddenly afraid, "no."

"It's the only way to make it work," she argued, taking a step forward, "it guarantees my safety, and I've already cast it before so I know I can do it again-" she said, advancing some more.

"Granger that was a fluke and you know it," he said, taking another step back, "And I'm still suffering the after-effects of that little miracle. No. You're risking my life. Again."

"No, look," she said stopping a couple of steps in front of him. "I won't do it without your permission. You get to choose. Either we try it again with a strong chance it'll get us a meal today, or we don't do it at all and we keep walking, and hope something else will come along."

"Or, you give me the wand, my brain doesn't fry and we get to eat," he replied, opening his hands to her. It was so close.

"Malfoy, choose," she said, pointing her wand to the rabbit hole behind her and holding up the other wand with her hand, trying to convey the choice she wanted him to make.

"I choose-" his arm darted out for hers with the speed of a seeker. His other hand wrapped itself around her neck as he hooked his leg around her smaller one. This was it, his window to freedom. In a bought of speed and strength, he flipped her down, holding tightly to the wand in her hand. He let her go as she fell, standing tall and beaming a smile he thought he'd never experience again.

Hermione landed with an "Oof," alarmed and mortified.

"You know you should really hold on tighter to your wands, Granger," he said, radiating glee as he twirled the wand in his hand, "it could without a doubt come in handy to you some time."

Reacting on principle, Hermione sent a stun at him, which he stumbled but deflected as she scrambled back to her feet.

"Easy," he said, wiping the smirk from his face, trying to guide the situation. He kept the wand pointed down, itching to use it.

But she only saw red, pointing her wand at his nose.

"I'm hungry. You're hungry. Let's focus on getting the rabbit," he said, trying hard to ignore the euphoria of magic activating inside his veins.

She stood there – heaving in anger and at a complete loss of words.

He waved his hand at her, "go stand in front of the hole again, I'll scare it out."

"You tricked me."

"You gave me an impossible choice."

"Bollocks!"

He was going to need to make her see the logic.

"Granger you can't blame me for trying for it. You would have done the same if the tables were turned."

He knew she knew it was true.

"So now what?" she said, breathing heavily through her nose, but more level headed than ten seconds ago. Her tailbone throbbed where she landed on it, but she kept her focus on him. Her situation just turned from miserable to sinister, and she racked her brain to try and find a way out of it.

"We hunt," he replied.

She wasn't falling for it.

"Is this…a truce?"

"For now," he said honestly. Granger was a formidable opponent, he could admit. But the adrenaline high was just calling for him to strike. He felt energized while she practically trembled in fear, like the tiny hare they were about to slaughter. Draco smirked; some of last night's scenario's playing through his head. Oh the things he could do.

"You go stand at the hole then," she said, grinding her teeth and gathering her courage as she walked back up to him.

That wouldn't do. Draco frowned. Then he'd be the one distracted by the hare.

"I don't even know the spell, Granger. Let's get this over with."

"Then I'll teach you," she persisted. It didn't take a goblin to figure out he wanted her distracted. The moment she was, he would strike.

"You know what? I'd rather bloody do it anyways" he said, walking past her and making his way in front of the hole.

"I thought you said you didn't know the spell?" She asked sarcastically.

Keeping his eyes on hers, he pointed his wand over his shoulder and shot off an arrow that made a wide arc into the distance before frightening some birds as it landed.

"I lied."

Fine. She thought. She would play his game.

She angled her wand to the ground staring at him. She had a plan of her own.

"You ready?"

He nodded his response and lowered his eyes to the hole and bringing his wand up.

"Bombarda," he pronounced clearly. Whatever plan she had was flown out the window at his preemptive strike. The ground in front of him burst open, exploding, completely destroying the rabbit's mound and nest underneath it; and effectively blinding Hermione as the earth shot into her eyes and the dirt beneath her crumbled, making her lose her footing.

She threw up a protection charm as she desperately rubbed her eyes. He struck it down in two shots. She threw up another one, rapidly blinking as she pushed her feet in reverse, standing up and trying to gain some distance between them.

Draco advanced. He needed to immobilize her. She skillfully blocked both of his disarming charms while _blind_.

"Petrificus totalus!" He shouted.

"Protego!" she warded him off again. His spell struck her shield with a loud resounding bang.

 _Holy shit,_ thought Hermione in alarm. That was a really strong hit.

Clearing the rest of the debris out of her eyes, she started fighting back.

"Stupify!" She cried, but he dodged it.

They continued their duel, lights of every color flying across the field at the other. Evenly matched, Hermione eventually lost her temper.

"Come on Malfoy! You want to kill me that badly you're going to need to do it properly," she hollered at him.

It wasn't his intention. He was figuring it out as he went. But he knew he needed to find a way to keep her quiet. To put it in her own words, _it guaranteed his safety_. Obliviating her memory was his best bet. He just needed her to stop moving.

She shot him a stinging hex and it hit the tip of his elbow; causing it to blister and welt as if he's just suffered a terrible allergic reaction.

Fuck it. Screw immobilizing her.

"Diffindo," he yelled, intending to cut her down.

She threw up a guard and sent back a tripping jix.

He jumped to avoid it. Gracefully handing on his feet, he twirled and fired a particularly nasty one; "Sectumsempra!"

Hermione let out a gasp, ducking and rolling out of the way, feeling the heat of it graze the back of her high as she went.

 _That would have been bad._

Hermione got back up on her knees and sent him another stun before ducking back down into the grass. He shot a couple more curses but they missed. She peeped back out, cast the reducto curse on him and plopped back down.

He blocked it right before it hit him.

The spells were becoming more dangerous. They were both acting recklessly and the situation was quickly escalating out of hand.

"Incendio," yelled Draco, waving his wand in her general area as he marched ahead. _No hiding._

The yellow grass absorbed the flames like a hungry wildebeest, grazing one patch onto the other, quickly reducing it to ash and spreading quickly.

"Let's have it then mudblood!" he called, provoking her as only he knew he could. Then, from his left, a powerful jet of water emerged from the field, knocking him off clean off his feet. He fell with a dull thud, head smacking the ground and instantly reviving his migraine from the night before.

Hermione got up from her hiding place and hosed down the immediate danger as the flames licked around her. Then she turned and swiftly did the same to the surrounding area. But the fire raged beyond her now, and the once quiet meadow seemed to come to life, panicked rodents and other animal sounds filled her ears as their homes burned around them.

The danger was overwhelming. This had to stop.

Pouring all of her heart into her concentration, Hermione incanted "Aguamenti." A wave of water vigorously burst from her wand, the kind of surf you only see on a rough day by the ocean. It flooded as far as the eye could see. With renewed hope, she ran in a wide circle, her jet slowly turning with her, like a sprinkler, and muffling all escaping flames in the vicinity.

"Locomotor Mortis." Her legs locked together mid-stride and she crashed to the ground.

"I gotta hand it to you Granger, that last one hurt like a _bitch_ ," said Malfoy, striding towards her.

She turned to the voice in a fury. This was all his fault. Everything was his fault.

"Then I hope this one does too. Stupify!"

Once again he blocked it, but this time she was ready. She'd already unbounded herself and got on her hands and knees, raising her arm at him.

"Expelliarmus," she said, with as much power as she could muster.

This time, the wand flew out of his hand as if an imaginary string had yanked it. It sore high above her head and landed somewhere behind her. He stopped in his tracks. She didn't bother trying to get up to catch it. There was no need.

She sat back on her ankles and dug her head in the crooks of her elbows.

It was over.

Draco stared at the wand as it flew off into the burnt field and took a step back in disbelief. She disarmed him. With one of the simplest spells in the book. He looked back down at her. Her hands covered her head as she knelt on the ground, resembling a turtle. Her wand was still tightly gripped between her shaking fingers.

He needed to get out of there. He turned and ran.

Hermione heard him flee. She rocked herself back into a squatting position and considered her options once more. On the bright side, he was wandless again. And she knew never to let him near one for as long as she so lived.

 _He actually tried to kill me._

It was an intoxicating thought and her eyes morphed into a shade of dark they'd never seen before.

Pushing herself up, she ran after him.

Draco ran as fast as he could; his lungs begging him to stop. His head screamed, threatening to shut him down if he continued to push himself past his limit.

"Stupify!" he heard from somewhere behind him. He looked back to see how far she was when the red light hit him. He was hurled to the ground once again. This time his ears rang with the impact.

He slowly tried to push himself up. When he couldn't, he rolled onto his back instead, trying desperately to overcome his shell shock.

"Reducto!" she screamed, the earth blew up beside his face, making him scream in terror.

Hermione reached him. Giving his head a firm shake, he tried to crawl back up. She launched herself on top of him, pinning him down and straddling his waist. One hand grabbed a fistful of his collar while the other hand gripped her wand like a knife and she dug it into his chest.

"Don't," he wheezed.

Red sparks spilled from her wand, burning a hole through Ron's shirt, right above his scar.

"Stop," he panicked, bringing his hands onto hers and trying to pull her wand off him.

She didn't budge. It reached his own shirt, easily eating through the silk and scorching him with an intensity that seared his skin.

"Granger you could kill me," he said, trying to push her off in freight. But Hermione held still, digging it deeper into his wound and forcing him to flatten against the ground.

"Why shouldn't I?" she rebutted.

"We've been through this," he wheezed, "you couldn't live with yourself."

"Well the more I think about it, the more it seems logical for me to off you- after all- you were going to kill me anyways right?"

"No-" he wailed as she increased the power, the wound re-opening as she drilled.

"That's what you've been telling me since we've started this little adventure!" Her voice escalated, "that's what you just tried to do! You set fire to an entire ecosystem trying to do it!" she finished, screaming in his face.

"I-"

"No! Why shouldn't I kill you?!" She stopped the onslaught on his chest and leaned forward, jabbing the tip of her wand under his jaw and boring her eyes into his.

He looked up at her in despair, breathing rapidly - "please don't kill me Granger," he begged, his eyes wide and teary. "I want to live," he said, voice croaking.

Something inside Hermione broke then. All the frustrations and fears of the past couple of days resurfacing. Her fatigue, her hunger, her anxiety of Harry and Ron's wellbeing, her fear for the fate of Ron's parents, her fear of the future to the wizarding world and all the resentment she held against Malfoy seemed to pour out in an instant.

Without thinking, she let out a wail and threw her wand off to the side. Lowering herself completely on top of him, she curled her arms around his nape and hid her face into his neck and cried inexhaustibly.

* * *

A/N: Whoooohooo! What a ride. This was my longest chapter yet. Things are taking a turning point after this, tune in soon to find out ;).


	19. Chapter 19

He tensed, freezing like a statue on top of the smoldering ground.

 _I'm alive._

He was so sure she was going to kill him.

He'd prattled on uncontrollably as she screeched in his face, not really thinking about what he was saying as he begged for her mercy.

Audibly heaving, his lungs forced him to release the breath he'd held as the sun beat down on his face, his cloudy eyes glistening with moisture.

He was used to fear. He lived it every day at the Manor.

He was scared of the Dark Lord, for fear that one day his family be persecuted. In a matter of speaking, he could say his feet bled from the number of eggshells he was forced to walk on. Hell, he'd been _really_ scared when the ground had crumbled under his feet, hurling him off the cliff into the lake. That was heart-stopping enough. But he'd been _terrified_ of Hermione as she willfully, and literally, tore him a new hole. Never before had he seen such unadulterated rage from her.

A single tear slipped past his eyes and onto his cheeks as he lay there unmoving.

 _And yet_ …no matter what he'd done to her. Despite _everything_ he'd said to her. Regardless of how blinded by rage or how frenzied with animosity she'd become.

She let him live.

Another ragged breath escaped him. He couldn't understand her.

She sobbed brokenly into his ear, holding him tightly as her chest heaved on his, making him wince.

Inhaling deeply, he tried controlling his breathing.

The one thing he knew for sure; he had lost.

He had every means to escape and he hadn't gone. He could have apparated. He could have freed himself from the misery. He couldn't even remember why that damn rabbit was so important. He had Potter's money in his pocket; he could have chosen any restaurant and devoured the menu. He could have gone to the ministry and informed them of her whereabouts, dammed be the consequences. Maybe he would have even been rewarded.

His face scrunched up in anguish, his self-control backsliding as he let out a shaky breath. He could have gone _home_.

He balled his fists as a new wave of tears slipped down either side of his face, moistening Hermione's hair as they went. He banged the ground and let out a cry of frustration and defeat.

If she noticed, she didn't react.

He sobered up and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down heavily as he came to terms with reality. They were nothing but fantastical desires and delusive thoughts. He knew he couldn't leave. And his once chance to obliviate her was lost.

Hermione's sobbing finally calmed, but she remained in the crook of his neck, effectively hiding her face from his. He was silently grateful for it. He wasn't keen on letting her see him in his obvious mental distress. But also because her weeping would remind him of her time spent at Malfoy Manor, and the screams and tears that had ripped from her as Bellatrix tortured her on the hardwood floor.

The experience had been…scarring.

Not that he cared. It wasn't that. Torture sessions were just another regular day as of late, with death eaters rounding up old school mates and blood traitors. Hell, even that Lovegood girl had been locked away for a while. But with Granger, he'd been expected to stand there, and observe. "Study and learn" his aunt had called it. Like it was class demonstration he'd be quizzed on. Granger was to be his "future assignment". So he watched, stoically, and waited for it to be over. After they'd been rescued, he waited for the panic in the room to settle. Then he briskly walked to the nearest washroom and emptied the contents of this stomach. He grew up with Granger. He saw her nearly every day in class. He knew what subjects she was best at and in which ones she asked the most questions. He knew her insecurities, mostly because he would be the one to cause them. And he knew she loved her idiot friends, golden boy wonder and simpleton extraordinaire.

But despite his hatred for the guy, he hadn't tattled on Potter for a reason. Threatening to torture someone was one thing. That was easy. It could even be fun… but being the sole reason for a massacre, that was another.

Not that it mattered much in the end. They still got caught; he still had to watch Granger get maimed.

Miraculously, they all escaped. And with the help of his father's old house-elf no less.

Hermione hiccupped on top of him, making him wince as her body jerked itself involuntarily, rubbing painfully against his partially reopened wound.

"Granger," he whispered as another one rocked her body, "you're crushing me."

"I don't care," she mumbled back, letting out a heavy breath.

"Please?" He asked, placing his hands on her ribs and lifting a little when she hiccupped again, determined to stop her fucking body from jerking over him.

She lifted her head to look at him, uncaring of her wild appearance, and he quickly averted his bloodshot eyes, muttering a curse as she scrutinized him.

Malfoy _never_ says please.

She hiccupped again and he threw his head back, his fingers digging into her and slightly raising her up once more to relieve the pressure, favoring one side as he did.

Hermione furrowed her brow, letting herself slowly roll-off to lay beside him, retracting her arms from him and propping herself up on her forearm. She spotted his injury, mildly bleeding, and its taint on her shirt, a mirror image of his.

"You should probably put pressure on that," she muttered.

"I know," he breathed, and brought a hand up to do so. He closed his eyes, head still swimming as he tried to swallow his shame. Merlin, he was pathetic.

Suddenly, she placed her hand on top of his, adding to the weight. He opened his eyes to glare at her, her eyes puffy and filled with regret and sadness.

"Don't pity me, Granger. It's unbecoming."

"It's called compassion Malfoy, and it's something you sorely lack."

Choosing to ignore her, he closed his eyes again and concentrated on his breathing.

They stayed like that for a few more moments, actively avoiding conversation until Hermione spoke up.

"If it doesn't stop bleeding I'll have to cauterize it."

His eyes snapped open, "like hell you will."

"If I don't it'll increase your chance of inf-"

Unexpectantly, Hermione stopped herself and looked out in the distance.

 _Oh no._

She wiped her head around, straining to see or hear the grumble of voices she'd heard moments before. She couldn't decipher the words spoken, but she defiantly heard more than two people in the vicinity.

And they were in a _very_ open field.

She turned back to Draco.

"Malfoy, we need to apparate," she whispered, getting up into a crouching position and looking around for her wand.

"I don't think s-"

"Shhh!" She said, pointing a finger to the sky, effectively ending his sentence.

He heard them then, the voices. He paled, "Granger, I'm not lying. I'll splinch."

"You should be fine now-" she said, finding her wand and looking around for the other.

He pushed his other hand against the ground and sat up, "I was until this morning!" He hissed.

"What do you mean-"

"I mean when you fucking concussed me-"

"I never-"

"When I hit the ground Granger!" He shouted in a whisper. She looked back at him, eyes wide with the realization that one of them was about to be fucked.

Then, far in the distance, they appeared over a hill. They were at least a dozen people heading their way.

Hermione found the other wand and shoved it into her bag in haste.

"Draco, please," she begged him; "We need to try." She couldn't handle twelve death eaters. And while there stood a small chance they supported the side of the light, the odds weren't in her favor. The Order was rarely seen in such a big group out in the open.

Draco lifted his hand off his chest and turned his palm her way, shaking his head. It was saturated as the blood slowly continued to leak from the gap in his chest.

His eyes nervously flicked between her face and to the men ahead, his thoughts aligning with her speculation. Pressing his hand back onto his breast, he voiced their thoughts aloud.

"This is it Granger. Who's party is it gonna be? Yours or mine?"

Anxiety gripped her.

Draco gave her a lopsided smile. One that reminded her of Ron when she needed cheering up.

"Just think," he said with a dark chuckle. "One of us will finally get a nice, warm and _tasty_ meal."

She didn't laugh.

"Hey!" shouted one of the men who picked up the pace to reach them. Hermione gripped her wand so hard her knuckles turned white. And to Draco's surprise, she stood up and stepped in front of him, facing the stranger as he approached.

The man was heavy. He had a round and large button nose and stark white stubble that stood out in contrast to his dark skin. His large tunic was a deep green and he wore a bright yellow sash that barely reached around his abdomen. He huffed for a moment in front of her, sweat stains apparent before he addressed them in a booming voice.

"Are you two alright?" He asked in a heavy accent.

Neither of them answered right away.

"Oh," Hermione finally answered stupidly, not expecting the question. She turned her head back to Draco a little stunned. Were they…part of the Order after all?

"I splinched," resounded Draco from behind her.

It wasn't his father's men – one, because he didn't recognize him. Two, because that question would have _never_ been asked. And according to that dumb look on her face, Granger obviously didn't know him either.

The man took a couple of heavy steps beside Hermione to look at Draco, who took his hand off to show him the bleed.

"Hey!" Said the man again, turning to wave over the rest of the approaching crowd.

Turning back to Draco, he furrowed his eyebrows, "that does not look like a splinch."

"It's a splinch," he promised, staring fixedly at him.

The man looked away from him and glanced around the area.

"What happened here?" he asked.

"It was like this when we got here," responded Draco. The man furrowed his eyebrows again at him.

"What. It's the truth."

The man stayed silent a moment, observing him.

"God, aren't you going to do anything? I'm bleeding out on this wretched-"

"Sorry about him," said Hermione, coming to her senses and walking up to the man, "my name is Jane. He can be a little fussy when he's in pain," she said, sticking her thumb out to Draco.

The man gave her a small smile, revealing a large gap between his front teeth, and his eyebrows made a quick up and down motion as if to say, _apparently_.

"Hello Jane, my name is Aballach, but you may call me Ab," he said, a jovial personality coming to light.

"Are you ok?" Asked another man as the rest of them finally arrived.

"Yes I am, but my friend here needs some help," she said, looking back to Draco who looked like he was about to throw a hissy fit, "can you help us?" She added, looking back.

"Our village is about an hour walk from here," answered Ab, "Do you think you can make it?" he asked, looking to Draco.

"No, I can't," he whined.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Same old Malfoy.

"He'll be fine," she said. His eyes shot daggers at her.

"Did you guys start the fire?" asked a man on her left.

"Like I said," answered Draco, hand still pressed against his wound, "we just got here."

"It's true," she said jumping in. He wasn't sounding very convincing. This scenario looked suspicious enough.

"What happened to you," asked the same man.

"We apparated, he splinched, we stopped mid-travel, and when we crashed I landed on top of him," she finished, pulling at her shirt to show them the fresh bloodstain.

"And where were you headed?" Asked Ab.

"We-," said Hermione, tripping on her words and suddenly becoming flustered. Where would she and Malfoy be going? Together? "We-"

"We were going home," interjected Draco.

It was a stroke of luck that Hermione was facing away from the crowd because her eyebrows shot up past her hairline.

'I see," said, Ab, clearly having reservations, his eyes flickering between them, "and where is home?"

"London," answered Hermione immediately. There was no way she was going to let Malfoy dictate their direction of travel.

Ab nodded his head and offered Draco a hand, "then let's get you better so you can go home."

"Finally!" Said Draco, giving him his clean hand and letting the man haul him up. He wobbled a moment on his feet, his head throbbing at the quick change of position. Draco released his hand but Ab kept a tight grip on him.

"What did you say your name was again?" he asked, looking over Malfoy's features. Hermione held her breath.

"Septimus," replied Draco and he gave the man's hand a firm up and down motion.

"An old name indeed!" beamed Ab, who joyfully gave Draco a more enthusiastic handshake.

Hermione let out her breath. _Thank goodness_.

He turned to the other men, "I'll take them back boys, come find me when you've returned."

The men nodded their head and some of them waved goodbye while others didn't really pay attention to them before continuing on. Hermione quickly weighed the pros and cons of leaving with the stranger. But the pros were way too strong to consider it for long. Her stomach grumbled angrily, desperate for a good meal.

Ab started walking in the direction he came, making a motion for the two to follow.

"Septimus," he started. "Latin, I believe?"

"Meaning the seventh son," replied Draco, "hey, do you have anything for pain? I've got a splitting headache."

"I do not," replied Ab. "But my sister will, brilliant witch that she is."

"Were you surveilling the prairie?" interjected Hermione, lifting her head up to the man as they walked.

"It's not a common practice," he replied, "but recently there's been a handful of werewolf attacks in the area. When the village noticed the smoke we thought it prudent to investigate."

"Have werewolves attacked around here before?" asked Hermione.

"Not really," he replied, "but times are changing, it's best to stay alert," he said, giving her another smile and a wink.

Hermione liked him. He seemed to radiate a "Jolly-old Saint Nick" vibe that was becoming increasingly comforting.

"You both seem quite young," he said, looking them over as they walked, "shouldn't you be in school?"

"Well,-" started Hermione.

"We just graduated last year," interrupted Draco.

"Then a congratulation is in order," said Ab as he smiled at them. "Good time too. Rumor says Hogwarts isn't the same without Dumbledore…" Hermione's eyes shifted to Draco, but he kept his face impassive and stared ahead, giving nothing away. "And what houses do you hail from?"

"Gryffindor," Hermione piped up.

"And you Septimus?"

"Ravenclaw," grumbled Draco. He didn't need to give this man another reason to distrust him.

"Ah! A courageous and strong Gryffindor" he said opening a palm to Hermione, "together with the cleverness and wit of a Ravenclaw" he said, opening his other palm to Draco, "A very good fit."

"Is it now?" Draco sarcastically asked.

Ab looked down at him, raising his eyebrows, "I would know, my wife was in Gryffindor," he said.

"And you're the Ravenclaw?" said Hermione, a smile creeping on her face. It felt good to smile again. It felt normal.

"I am, Mademoiselle," he gave her his biggest smile yet. "Tell me Septimus, what was the hardest riddle the door to the Ravenclaw tower gave you? For me, it was-"

"Are we there yet?" Said Draco, cutting the man off and stopping. The two turned to him and he took his hand off his chest. The bleeding had increased and both the bloodied shirts he wore were drenched almost comically, like a bad Halloween costume.

"Oh my," said Ab. "Perhaps we'd better pick up the pace."

"How much longer?" Asked Hermione, eyes fixated on Draco's chest.

"We still have about twenty minutes I imagine," said Ab.

"Twenty minutes?" droned Draco. His energy was falling. He'd be a corpse before then.

Ab raised his wand, "I'll have my sister waiting for us."

He cast the petronus charm. It took the form of a seagull before it soared away with his message.

They walked another five minutes before Draco had enough and collapsed. Rolling onto his back, he whined in pain.

"Ma-Septimus!" exclaimed Hermione as she knelt to his side.

"Ok," said Ab, holding out a finger. "Hold on, it's just over this hill. I'll go get help."

"Thank you," said Hermione as he trekked away from them.

"I'm not going to make it," whimpered Draco.

"Oh stop it, you'll be fine," she said. Sure he'd lost quite a bit of blood. And he definitely needed medical attention. But he was nowhere near as pale as he was when they'd apparated from the Weasley's.

She placed her hand back onto his and applied pressure.

"Why bother-"

"Deal with it," she said with an air of authority.

He kept quiet, looking up at her from the ground, his eyes searching hers. Was she acting out of guilt?

"I've got an idea," she said, looking up the hill.

She grabbed his other arm and pulled him into a seating position, "come on then, get up."

"What the bloody hell are you doing? I can't-"

Hermione lifted his arm and pushed her head through it, wrapping her other arm around his waist while pressing her side into his.

"Don't touch me," he said, suddenly uncomfortable at their proximity.

"Together," she said, ignoring him and using all her strength to push them up to a stand.

"I said fuck off mudbl-"

"Draco Malfoy. You will not, and I mean will _not,"_ she said, stressing the last syllable, _"_ use that term while I am starving, exhausted and hauling your pathetic arse up this hill."

He looked over at her heated gaze. She was determined and stubborn and she had no problem making sure he knew it. For the second time that day he was speechless. His eyes wandered over her face before landing on her pursed lips, noting they were slightly puckered in his direction.

Catching himself, he forced his eyes back up to hers.

"Well let's get on with it then."

She wasted no time and strutted forward, slowly, but steadily helping him walk up the hill. His breathing became more labored and he let out a grunt or a whine every now and again. But if this little adventure of theirs would have taught her anything, it was how to harden that bleeding heart of hers. She knew his whines and cries and could now tell what was real, what was fake and what was somewhere in between. He was somewhere in between. She could push him a bit further. He was capable.

He applied more and more of his weight onto her as they neared the top, his strength quickly disappearing, the blood now tinting the top of Harry's jeans.

Finally, they came to a full stop as they reached the mound's peak, their chests rising and falling from the exertion. Draco had broken out into a heavy sweat along the way. Not that it bothered her. It wasn't as if he smelled…yet.

Down below was a quaint little town –more of a village really, with brick houses and lumber roofs.

"Hey!" Yelled Ab from below them.

Hermione looked down. He held his tunic above his knees as he ascended the slope. In front of him was a rather plump lady, around the same age, carrying a woven basket and scurrying up the hillside to them.

"Granger…"

She looked over to Draco and found him staring at her, his gaze bizarre and calculating. And for a brief second, his eyes flickered down and focused on lips.

Then his eyes rolled up into his head and his body slumped out of her grip as he passed out.

 _Definitely not fake._


	20. Chapter 20

Draco stirred as laughter resonated down the hall. His eyes fluttered open, revealing a dark wooden room, illuminated by a crack from the open door. Splayed out on a bed, his head sunk deep into a feathery pillow. Yawning, he stretched his limbs, slowly sitting up.

Then it dawned on him. No restraints.

He pushed his feet to the ground, took a couple of steps to the door, and peered out the gap.

The hallway had many floating candles, slowly bobbing near the ceiling without ever getting too close to it. The wax leaked, falling but evaporating, never reaching the floor. Just like Hogwarts.

Laughter picked up again. Draco took a step out of the room but stopped himself as the hallway temperature rose goosebumps across his chest. Realizing he'd been stripped down to his boxers, he took a step back into the room, opening the door a little wider to have a better look at his surroundings.

He first noticed a wooden dresser with a large mirror attached to it. A couple of nightstands without décor, no windows and finally, the bed he'd woken up on. Doing a double-take, he noted it had a large handstitched blanket draped over it. Walking closer, he scrunched his nose in disconcert as he looked at the poorly stitched red and blue colors with both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor emblems in the center.

 _Repulsive…_

On the bedpost, he saw his old clothes. He picked them up, draping his pants in the crook of his arm, as he spread open his shirt in the light. The tear had inexpertly been stitched with a thick black thread, clearly visible in the low lighting. It also held new buttons in the place of the missing ones. He scowled, looking closer; they were all different sizes and apparently, someone thought it was appropriate to add some brown ones into the mix.

He threw on his pants and filtered his arms through the sleeves of the shirt, fixing his collar as he made his way back to the mirror. He'd lost some muscle mass since he'd last seen himself and his cheeks were somewhat sunken. His black attire made his already pale complexion look ghost-like. A scowling face met his eyes as he buttoned his shirt, bottom up. He used to love this shirt. It fit him perfectly and used to show off his physical attributes rather nicely, often getting him compliments from female housemates back in the dorm.

He sighed, his fingers halfway done, looking at the monstrosity it had become. So much for that.

Taking a step closer to his reflection, he stopped buttoning as he noticed something and pulled at the silk.

His injury had been healed.

He pulled it open a bit further, trying to get a better look.

There was a scar. Its outlines were jagged and its interior was pink, darkening towards the center.

The healer had done a good job. While he wasn't ready to hit the beach anytime soon, he was definitely grateful to finally have it mended.

Laughter rang out once more.

He finished buttoning his shirt and left the room, following its source.

"So then I said; that's got to be the bravest thing you've ever done!" spoke a woman he didn't recognize. Laughter erupted once more.

"Now what about you Jane, how did you and Septimus find each other?"

He came to a stop right before what seemed to be the entrance of a kitchen, and stepped back, propping his shoulders against the wall and listening in.

"Oh..." said Hermione.

Draco gazed at the wall across the hall, patiently waiting for her to divert the question.

There was a pause before she continued, "our relationship has always been…rather complicated."

"How so?" pressed the woman, making Hermione rather uncomfortable.

 _He's a death eater. He's a pureblood supremacist. He's an asshole._

"We come from different worlds," she opted instead.

"We can understand that," stated Ab. "Her mother hated me! I had to buy that woman flowers every week for two years before she gave me her blessing."

"Who? Norma?" Asked Hermione.

"No, my mother," said the woman, and all three laughed until tears filled their eyes, gasping to catch their breath.

So, she kept up pretenses, thought Draco. She also hadn't redirected the conversation as he'd hoped, giving him a suspicious feeling they believed he and Granger were a couple. He silently made a face at the thought of it.

"Well how about some dessert then?" said the woman and the sound of a chair sliding and some bustling about could be heard. He was grateful she didn't push the subject.

Figuring it was as good a time as any, Draco made an entrance, leaning off the wall and taking a couple of steps into the room.

He zoned in on her. Her hair had been washed and tamed into a lazy ponytail. Her outfit had been cleaned and she smiled at the lady near the sink, cutting up some sort of pastry.

"Septimus!" Boomed Ab, and made a gesture to the empty chair beside him.

It was tempting. The table had food and a plate was prepared, he assumed for him.

But some things needed addressing first.

Hermione turned and saw him standing near the entrance. Her smile widened and she beamed at him, hopping off of her chair and taking a couple of steps in his direction.

"We need to talk," he said, cutting the mood.

She felt a little crestfallen at his tone, though she couldn't pinpoint why. She stopped a few feet from him.

"They've made supper for us," she said.

"Now," he responded in a no-nonsense kind of manner, but not as harshly as he intended it to be.

"Alright," she agreed, losing her smile completely. "If you'd both excuse us," she said as she turned to their hosts before making her way down the hallway.

"Of course," said Ab confused, but he gave them an encouraging motion nonetheless.

Draco offered the older adults a little bow of his head and turned to follow her back to the room.

He closed the door behind him, putting them in complete darkness.

"Lumos," muttered Hermione, and the tip of her wand gave out a glowing white light, illuminating them both.

"You might want to add a muffliato charm. Wouldn't want us being overheard."

Hermione did as he requested, making the room soundproof.

"Now then, what was so pressing as to-"

"Are they members of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"No, they're not," she said, taken aback, "how do you know the Order's proper name?"

"Oh come on, everybody knows."

"I wasn't aware it was common knowledge."

"We know more than you think we do."

Hermione stayed quiet a moment, processing that information.

"What do you want Malfoy?"

"I want to know what you're up too," he said, walking over to sit on the bed.

"How do you mean?"

"I mean I have no intention of playing your little game of _house_ while we have evening tea with whoever the fuck these people are."

" _These_ people gave us food and shelter without having the slightest idea of who we are. Not to mention the fact that they wasted an entire afternoon trying to keep _you_ alive."

"Wasted," he repeated, offended by her choice of word.

She sighed, "I just meant that they're nice people and they took a lot of their time and resources to save you. You shouldn't be taking that for granted."

"You're a sentimental fool, Granger. Nothing comes for free. The longer we stay, the bigger the return when they come to collect the favor."

She shot him a sad look at that moment, taking a pause to consider her words; "I actually find it quite heartbreaking how you seem to believe that everyone and anyone around you is greedy, opportunistic and incapable of selflessness." He sneered at her speech and brought his hands together, "You're _so_ fucking gullible. I can't believe I need to be the one to tell you this, but you need to start guarding your back before someone throws a curse at it."

"Someone like you?" She responded darkly.

He raised his eyebrow and watched her a moment, then tilted his head as he hunched his shoulders, "someone like me."

She pinched the bridge of her nose and huffed in frustration, "is this what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"No," he said, carefully watching her and deciding to get to the point, "are you taking me to the Order or not?"

"I am," she said hesitantly, wondering where he was going with this.

"Then why are we here?" He asked, pointing a finger to the ground, "from what I gather, we've been here all day. You've had every opportunity to instruct someone to come pick up my unconscious carcass and yet," he said, waving a hand to himself, 'here I am."

"How could I have-"

"Don't play dumb Granger, the Patronus charm. You might not be able to do it, but he can," he said, pointing his thumb to the door, "now explain."

Hermione had almost forgotten how astute Draco really was. Of course she'd thought of it, but that meant she'd have to blow their cover. And despite the warmth of Ab and his family, she couldn't bring herself to involve them. They hadn't spoken of the war at all since she arrived, and they seemed to live outside if it. Nevertheless, she couldn't use the Patronus even if she'd informed them of the circumstances.

"It's none of your concern," she said, walking to the door. It wasn't something she wanted to explain to him, nor did she need to.

"Of course it bloody well is," he said, standing up.

"No it's not," she said, making a grab for the doorknob and turning it open.

He took a couple of quick steps and slammed his hand against the door, effectively shutting it with a bang.

"Where's the cavalry?" he asked, dead serious and pushing himself into her personal space.

She pointed her wand at him threateningly.

"Stop trying to intimidate me."

"Where are they?" He said, pressing closer.

She wouldn't tell him. She really, really shouldn't.

"They're on their way," she bluffed, eyes shifting between his. That should hold him off. Just until she could find a way to contact someone.

He watched her a moment as she clenched and unclenched her other hand, waiting for him to back off.

"You're lying," he realized.

"I am not."

He took her wrist and forced it down to the side of her body as he pivoted in front of her and took a step forward; making her back hit the wood of the door behind her.

The light from her wand cast shadows over their faces, now glowing up from between them.

"I can feel your anxiety," he spoke quietly; "you're practically oozing it."

His breath fanned over her cheeks, and she suddenly felt very aware of their proximity. She brought her gaze up to his. She knew it was meant to be threatening, but, inhaling sharply, his demeanor had changed. He was calm and intense. He loomed over her, and what was meant to be intimidating suddenly became electric. She felt as if the room had gotten hotter, and her stomach squeezed, heat swelling from down below. Shifting her eyes between his, she realized with mortification that she was excited.

His grip loosened on her wrist. Very loud alarm bells went off inside her head.

Scrunching her nose, she tipped her wand upwards, the point of it grazing his skin and sent him a little zap.

"Ow!" he said letting go of her hand, "what the hell?"

"Get some mouthwash," she said, turning her nose up and taking a few steps to the other side of the room "your breath reeks," she added, leaning against the dresser and crossing her legs, taking some slow, calming breaths.

Even in the dim light, she could see a pink hue crawl up the side of his ears as he glared at her.

"What are you hiding Granger?" he asked again, keeping his voice low.

She sighed in frustration; she was aroused and confused and this conversation was going nowhere.

She really needed to get out of this room.

"I don't know who to reach," she lost her patience and admitted. Then realized how incredible it felt to finally say it out loud.

"What are you on about?" He said, taking a seat back on the bed.

"I don't know who to contact or even where they are if I knew," she clarified.

"You mean…you don't know where headquarters to the Order is?"

"Not anymore," she said rather gloomily.

It was true. Furthermore, she had no idea what had happened to the Weasley's or professor Lupin. She still had no idea where Harry and Ron were. She couldn't contact Hogwarts or anyone at the Ministry. She couldn't let Malfoy leave and yet they had nowhere to go. For the first time in a very long time, she had no idea what to do next. And that frightened her very much.

"Oh my God," he said, crossing his arms and rubbing a hand over his eyes. "So, what? You were just going to keep me captive and wait it out. Hoping that you'd _happen_ to cross someone you know?"

"…I don't have a plan right now."

He rubbed his hands over his face, unbelieving what he was hearing. _Well_ _that makes two of us_.

He ran his hands through his hair, pulling on the ends, as he bent his head and groaned. He just needed to get his hands on a wand. Any wand. Then he'd wait until she was distracted long enough to wipe her memory and high tail it out of there.

He brought his hands together, in a pensive motion, losing himself in deep thought. This was actually better, he rationalized. It meant he wasn't on his way to some creepy, run-down building to be subjugated to hours of questioning and possibly torment. He wouldn't be locked away in a cell and subdued to mockery and misery. He wouldn't need to deal with Mad-Eye Moody or any other crackpot working for them.

A weight lifted off his chest, one he hadn't realized was there in the first place.

He wouldn't become a prisoner of war after all. He let out a small sigh of relief.

So that just left him with _her_. Looking back up, he noticed Hermione's watchful gaze. She stayed silent, calmly waiting for his response.

Looks like he was stuck playing house after all.

But if he was going to play the game, they needed some rules.

"What have I missed since I've been out?" he asked.

She had not expected him to readily accept it. Rather, she'd braced for laughter, ridicule, taunting insults…and yet, he threw her for a loop.

"Well… you've been out since yesterday."

"Yesterday," he repeated, surprised.

"Ab carried you down into the house, where I met his wife and then his sister got to work pretty much as soon as you were put on the bed. She's knowledgeable and efficient. She used to be a healer at St-Mungo's actually. The draught's and potions she used; I've never heard of them before. She had essence of Dittany but she mixed it with-"

"Skip," he disrupted.

"Well that's it. You've been out since."

"And what about you?"

"Not much. I've read a bit, showered, eaten – something you need to do by the way," she added, giving him a pointed look.

He pursed his lips in annoyance as his stomach gave a growl as if to prove her point.

"What have you told them?"

"Nothing much, though they seemed rather interested in you actually-"

 _Why would they-_

"Granger," he said, suddenly alarmed and quickly piecing the puzzle together. He pulled up his sleeve, showing her his forearm, panic swelling within him, "the woman who healed me. Did she see it? Did she see the Dark Mark?" He asked, showing her the skull with the snake through it.

"She might have," said Hermione, realizing how that could be a problem.

"Shit! What the hell is wrong with you?!" he snapped, standing up and pushing his sleeve back down, "why didn't you hide it-"

"I wasn't thinking about _that_! I was preoccupied-"

"With what?!" he said, arms flaring out in anger.

"Assisting her! Preventing you from dying!" she screamed back, "you're welcome by the way!"

"Oh get off your high horse-"

"Excuse me?!"

There came a knock at the door.

"Is everything alright in there?"

They froze, staring at each other, eyes wide in fear.

"Yes!" Squeaked Hermione in a higher octave than normal, "in fact, I was just about to take a shower!"

"Alright," said Ab, "Septimus your plate is getting cold, would you like us to heat it up for you?"

"I'd appreciate it," replied Draco, now staring at the door.

"Alright, see you soon," he said, and they listened in silence as heavy footsteps retreated down the hall.

Hermione wasted no time and opened a drawer from the cabinet and pulling out a towel.

"How did he hear us-" started Draco.

"I would assume the spell broke," she huffed, heading for the door.

"Obviously," he hissed.

She turned the knob and opened the door, but stilled. Slowly, she closed it again, turning back to him.

"When I opened the door," she said, understanding what had happened.

"Holy shit," he said, "how much did they hear?"

"I don't know," she said opening the door again.

"Where are you going?" he hissed, struggling to control his volume.

"To take a shower-"

"What about-"

"I need to think," she said, stepping into the hall.

He tried to follow.

"Wait, waitwaitwaitwai-"

She clapped the door in his face.


End file.
